


Dear Fellow Traveler

by ASleepyBoi



Series: Onward through Skyrim [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Onward (2020)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Character Death, Crossover, Dawnguard, Gen, M/M, Post Main Questline, Profanity, Suggestive Themes, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 80,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23152996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASleepyBoi/pseuds/ASleepyBoi
Summary: Fate is an inconstant, unpredictable sphere, just like the Daedric Prince that claims power over it. Ian’s home, family, and previous life was stolen from him, and he is plunged into a world vastly different from his own. Will he be able to adapt to Skyrim’s cruel reality? Or will he just be another unfortunate innocent killed by many evils, lurking in the darkest reaches of a war torn land?
Relationships: Ian Lightfoot/Oc Male Dragonborn
Series: Onward through Skyrim [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995985
Comments: 62
Kudos: 53





	1. Raven

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is supposed to be a bit of a practice before I publish my own original story on here. I will occasionally make art of this story and the future book series that will become my career. Please let me know what you think of it, be it positive or negative criticism, I will be grateful of either :)
> 
> Name and summary changed due to this becoming a series. (Originally named “Onward through Skyrim.” name may change because I’m indecisive on certain things)
> 
> I will update chapters that feel weaker compared to the others, so do reread if you ever feel bored, you may find things that changed since your first time reading it. I also go on hiatus if another fandom draws me away for a bit, but I promise that I won’t abandon this series for a long time :)!

Ian set the heavy book down onto his desk. A huge book about magic that looks like it hasn’t been opened in years. To think he got it from a second-hand shop for only ten dollars! Grabbing his staff from the closet, he leaned it against the side of the desk before sitting down at the chair. It was a big book, with a few inches worth of pages within.

He was lucky it was as late as it was, or he would most likely be helping his mother with some chores at any other time on a Thursday. Ian is also lucky that Laurel and Barley went out to go get some groceries real quick, providing him with some time to experiment with the powerful staff. He had picked up the splinter, which, to his and Barley’s amazement a few weeks prior, begun to slowly shift into it’s own shape. It looked similar to his dad’s staff, but it still held some kind of _charm_ to it. As if it was Ian’s own staff, and no one else’s. He also hasn’t gotten a single splinter from it’s wood since it’s creation.

He opened the cover, and was met with a dust cloud. He coughed, waving away the particles of pure nasal torture, “Magicka Riaseth..?” he mumbled, lightly trailing his fingers across the title. He narrowed his eyes, “Some sort of foreign language?..” he asked himself. As always, his room answered with silence.

Ian opened to the first page, greeted with the table of contents and some Elvish. It may just be his eyes tired after a day of tests, quizzes, and reading text after text, but the black ink seemed to waver on the page as his eyes scanned the aged pages and daintily inked letters. He squinted his eyes, “Beware to the wandering eyes who have discovered this book. Only the very most skillful of mages can harness this tome’s true meaning..” he quoted the author’s message right next to the table of contents. Magic, Alchemy, Sorcery, Thaumaturgy.. which then were divided into many more categories under them. No wonder why the book was so big. How old is the book anyway? The cover and pages look ancient and yellowed, but the letters are so clear. It’s as if they were freshly printed into the pages; he wiped his thumb over a few words to see if the ink would smear. Nothing. He thought of it as just being well taken care of for how old it is. One _would_ be careful with a tome harboring such precious knowledge.

The Elf looked under the Alteration school: Teleportation Portals. His eyes lingered on the text. The word ‘Teleportation’ just called to him, sang to him even. It would be an itch he can’t scratch all night if he doesn’t at least check it out. He flipped the yellowing pages to a small coverage of portal creating and how to summon one. He narrowed his eyes upon seeing that in the picture, there was no staff being used, and rather a wizard was conjuring a portal with his bare hands, with a mass of tendrils circling the picture. Ian read more, and to his relief, he found something bearing information about staffs.

Ian read on how to properly set a portal from a few yards away, some of it was obscured in the same language he saw on the cover, but he understood enough to know that it is a portal that can send someone to nearly any place they have been before. He didn’t like that _‘nearly’_ , glaring at him, as if something was wrong, but he brushed the eerie feeling away. He could just be put off by the illustration and book cover. There was also a chant that he had to speak until the portal fully formed, while keeping a steady concentration. He read the chant, that was horribly written in that same foreign language. _‘Mora char magicka chi Nirn’_. Utter confusion was scrawled on Ian’s features, not a single word he was reading made sense, nor could he make connections to other languages. Trollish? No. Old Elvish? _No_. Merish? Not even close! Regardless, he is eager to try this new spell that was not in Barley’s book of magic. 

He gripped the staff’s wood, feeling a warm touch igniting under the smooth wood. He pointed towards the wall of his bedroom, and stared deeply into the dusty redish-orange paint. He began the chant. _“Mora char magicka chi Nirn”_ , he kept going, the words didn’t roll off the tongue, but he still kept up. His staff ignited with a slow flicker.. _“Mora char magicka chi Nirn...”_

The front part of the staff lit up, and fired a black, oily blast of magic into the wall, creating a ripple into the seemingly solid wood and drywall. This gave the young magician more confidence, so he chanted it louder, “Mora char magicka chi Nirn!-“

 _Bump!_ Ian’s focus was shattered when a raven flew into his window, smudging the window with it’s greasy feathers. He flinched at the sound and looked over his shoulder sub-consciously, not focusing on the spell he was casting.

_‘When you fail a spell, there are consequences!’_

The ripple in the wall turned into a dark green, spiraling portal, “Oh, no-no-no-no!” Ian panicked as he sprinted over to his desk trying to flip through the pages of the book to find a way to defuse the portal. He found nothing. Ian felt something wrap around his leg. He looked down, but before he could identify what was holding onto his leg, it yanked back with brutal force, causing Ian to fall and hit his head on the corner of the desk. 

He cried out, and attempted to grip onto the floor and avoid being forcefully ripped into the dark vortex. It pulled at Ian’s very being as he tried to hang onto the wooden floorboards. Something warm trickled down from his eyebrow where he hit his head. He looked back, and to his horror, an oily, black appendage was wrapped around his leg. It looked the very same from the illustration he saw in the book, and he was yanked back yet again. “Help!! Someone! Please-!” Ian was ripped away from his bedroom and into the abyss the tentacle emerged from.

The portal shut on itself. Leaving a thick, oily ring on the wall. It dripped down onto the floor, where there were smears of more of the dark liquid, proof of the appendage’s existence. A few drops of blood, of Ian’s blood, led a very small trail back to his desk, where the corner was smeared in more of the crimson fluid. The book rested neatly in the middle of his desk, surrounded by pictures of his family, little doodles, and notes; flipped on the page of the alteration spell.

—————

Ian met a faceful of dirt and grass upon being thrown from the dark vortex. His staff flew out, striking the ground next to him as Ian weakly tried to push himself up. He coughed, having had the wind knocked out of him when he was thrown out of the portal like a rag-doll.

Ian looked back at where he came from, but he saw nothing. There was a small puddle of the oily goo that tentacle was dripping with. Not comprehending everything fully yet, Ian reached his fingers to feel the spot where he hit his head. He drew back his hand, and saw red glistening off of his digits. What happened? It feels as if he woke from a dream. A very odd and terrifying dream he can hardly remember.

It then dawned on him. He casted a spell from a suspicious book, a tentacle grabbed him, and it pulled him through a portal. Did.. Did he just teleport himself somewhere that he has no idea where he is at? The young elf looked around, eyes wide as dinner plates. Pine trees surrounded him, with patches of blue flowers settled here and there. Yes, yes he did.

“Ok, Ian, don’t panic..” he told himself softly, knowing full well that the scared child deep inside him will burst out at any second and throw him into a chest heaving, palm sweating panic attack. “It’s ok, just find the nearest town and call mom..” He cursed his luck, and he cursed that stupid bird that just had to pick his window to crash into. Why him? Why his window, at that specific moment where he was handling a potentially dangerous spell? Ian let out a long breath of both irritation and nervousness. He reached over to his staff, and used it to push himself up from the ground.

He was at a loss. Where is he even? Pine are not even found in New Mushroomton. Is he in a different territory? Country? Continent?... “Hey! What are you doing in our territory? Turn around so I can see you, elf!” A threatening voice barked. He slowly turned to face the owner of the gruff voice, and he spotted a humanoid creature akin to an elf, with two similar figures at his side. They were clad in seemingly furs, and held small axes and swords at their hands, ready to strike.

The blonde humanoid stepped forward. He bore an aggressive expression, but it immediately twisted into one of confusion when he gave Ian a strange look, “What elf are you supposed to be? Some kind of Dunmer cross?”, he asked, looking him up and down confusedly. From behind him, a dark female looked over to the third humanoid and motioned her hand at the blonde, as if she was making a point about something. He didn’t notice, and just kept glaring at Ian, waiting for a response.

Ian stayed quiet. He may have more confidence and be bolder than he did a couple months ago, but he is still timid and quick to be intimidated by larger figures. The humanoid growled under his breath, “Got stones in your ears? What race of elf are you? Much more importantly, what are you doing in our territory?” He barked.

Ian was spooked out of silence, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t even know what _you_ are..” he stuttered as he tried to avoid eye contact. He would damn his anxiety verbally if he wasn’t confronted with dangerous looking criminals.

“Never seen a Nord before? What hole did you crawl out of? With those funny looking clothes and a clean face, I would assume you’re some noble’s little pet!” He antagonized.

“N-Nord?” Ian queried.

The woman next to the blonde nudged him, “He’s got a staff, careful Stoldar..” she mumbled. Her eyes were narrowed behind the red paint splattered around her face. At least, Ian hoped it was paint.

The blonde looked dead straight into Ian’s eyes, “You know how to use that there? How about you make this easier for all of us and just drop the staff. We’ll take that, and any gold you have on your hands,” he sneered.

Ian suddenly found the courage to raise the staff up threateningly, “B-Back off! I’m warning you!” he warned. He didn’t intend to stutter, but it still did it’s job... mostly. The two behind the male took a step back warily.

The blonde gaffaws, not buying the elf’s bluff, “What are you going to fire with that stick? That thing doesn’t even look like a real staff!-”

“ _Boombastia!_ ”, Ian ordered. The word rolled right off his tongue. It was as if his body acted before his brain could process the outcome. His staff lit up and fired a colorful ball of energy at the humanoid. The blue ball of energy exploded at his chest, sending him back to the ground. Fourth degree burns ran all the way up his chest, arms, and parts of his face. His lack of response signified the spell killed him.

Seeing the result of his attack, Ian gasped. What has he done? He just killed a person, he murdered someone. Only three words spun around in his head, _‘You killed him. You killed him. You killed him’_. Ian dropped his staff in disgust of what he just did, taking a step away from it as the flicker of energy previously used faded in the wood. Tears stung the corners of his eyes.

The two figures took a few more steps back, but it seemed like they aren’t just going to let Ian get away with killing their friend. The red painted female shook her head, looking from the charred body back up at the elf, she looked back down at the body. She hesitated, but she made up her mind about something. She pulled out what looked like a handmade whistle and blew it, sending a shrill pitch throughout the trees. Ian covered his sensitive ears, quickly becoming overwhelmed by everything.

A sharp pain pierced his neck. “Gah-!”, Ian cried out and fell to his knees. His hand raced to his neck and pulled out something sharp. He didn’t exactly see what it was, as he almost immediately lost consciousness. He fell sideways, into the muddy ground. His vision went black, but the one thought that lingered was, _‘What’s going to happen to me?..’_  
———  
Eigene looked down at the elf that passed out the second he fell to the ground. Hopefully, the poison won’t kill him, but she wouldn’t be surprised if the weak bellied grey skin can’t handle it. She kneeled down to inspect him. He didn’t look older than say.. fifteen or sixteen, and a few freckles spotted his clean, washed face beautifully. She felt a twinge of guilt for having Gel shoot him with a dart, as he didn’t even look threatening, and she probably could have him pinned with her boot. He doesn’t look like any elf she’s seen before, which intrigued her quite a bit. His ears and nose are quite large, and his hair is blue right down to it’s roots. She noticed the trail of smeared blood running down his brow and over his eye. When did he get that cut? Now that she has a better look at him, he looks little to nothing like a dark elf. How did Stoldar come to that conclusion? _‘Oh wait, I remember..’_ Eigene looked over at the charred body of the man she detested since the very beginning, _‘..It’s because he’s dumber than cow shit!”_ She thought as she glared at his permanent facial expression of pain and surprise. 

The culprit behind the arrow stepped from the foliage, a wood elf. Soon to see his nineteenth year. Gelelor, the Bosmer, looked at the elf-cross, then looked at Stoldar’s burnt body. Jurnel looked at Gel and shrugged his shoulders at the elf, the only form of communication the mute can truly give.

“What in the Nine happened here?” the Bosmer questioned Eigene, “Who did you have me shoot?!”

Eigene pinched the bridge of her nose. She let out a deep sigh as her migraine from that morning begin to return. Leave it to the second in chief to be the one cleaning this mess up.

The war-painted Nord just walked past Gel, “Just help Jur carry this elf back with us. He may be a spineless noble that wandered too far into the forest,” she ordered, “He might be useful to us..”

“What about Sto-”

“Bring him too. Chief’s going to lose his mind when he hears his dumbass brother got killed!”, Eigene barked, letting her colorful vocabulary loose a bit. For sure, Stademar isn’t going to be happy with this. Any ‘Son and Daughter of Skyrim’ would best a spineless elf, and to hear his own brother was absolutely annihilated by one would knock his own ego down a few notches. She suddenly remembered the splintered staff he used to cook the Nord in the first place. She looked over her shoulder, “And grab that magic staff too! Have Erlyn take a look at it when we get back to the hideout.” She added.

Gel nodded obediently. He looked at the staff and picked it up, careful not to lodge any splinters into his hand. Gods, he hates those.


	2. Staff

Eigene strode past the cells that housed many prisoners, many of which were dead merchants they stole off the road or slaves they had kept alive for obvious reasons. She looked over her shoulder to see the elf being chained up in one of the vacant cells. As she walked into Stademar Horse-Eater’s study, the dark skinned nord could hear distant conversation between Gel and Erlyn, the more magic based bandit of the clan. She says she isn’t a witch, but Eigene knows what voodoo magic she used while under the watchful eye of the Orphan Rock’s hagravens. _‘Why do they call it Orphan Rock?’_ She remembered asking the witch. 

_‘What do you think?’ Erlyn hissed as she ground a giant’s toenail into a fine powder using a mortar and pestle. ‘It’s because orphans were the hagravens’ favorite snack..’_

She knocked on his already opened door before crossing her arms behind her back as she approached the chief. The heavily scarred nord looked up from sharpening his battle axe, “Well? How did your little patrol go?”, he questioned as he kept eye contact with the female. But he also kept sharpening the already deadly weapon that could behead her in seconds. His own stone glare could rival her’s, and his criminal record only made him that much more threatening.

Regardless, she cleared her throat, “..Stoldar is dead. He provoked a magic caster against my warning to tread carefully” the woman reported.

The big, burly man sat, quiet. His glare disappeared, replaced with shock and disbelief. He then returned to his usual bitch-face, “Stoldar? My brother? A true son of Skyrim? Killed by a milk drinking magic user?” he growled. “Don’t jest with me, woman. Stoldar is careless, but he wouldn’t die to some spindly mage.”

Eigene never broke eye contact, “I am not bantering with you, chief. His body is currently being looked over by Erlyn..”

He was silent for a minute before he stood. He towered over her by a good three feet. The behemoth was anything but happy, “Where’s the magic user? I’ll kill them myself.”

Eigene blocked his way, “Hold on, chief,” the bandit said. Stademar halted to hear her out. “We have him held in a cell, but I want to make it clear to you that he is worth more to us alive rather than dead.”

Stademar growled. “How is that?”

”He is an elf whose race even I can’t pinpoint, and he wields a powerful staff that killed such a powerful Nord such as Stoldar. Give it a few weeks, even a few days, and I will find a use for him and his magic prowess. If not, you can kill him however you like. Bludgeon, drown, burn, feed to skeevers, I don’t care, but as the second in command, I implore you to think about the possibilities we have.” She stopped to let him think, “And, he also looks very young, so who knows how much more powerful he can get over time.” 

Stademar scratched his burly beard as he sat down. She could see the gears turning in his head. After a full minute of thinking, he looked up, “Alright. I will trust your judgment. Find a use for the bastard, if he even is worth Stoldar’s life, or my mercy,” Eigene let a smirk pull at the corners of her mouth, “-But,” he added, “If he tries to turn against us, I want him _dead_ , no questions or defiance.” She nodded wordlessly. Stademar waved her out of the room as he still processed his brother’s demise. Eigene closed the door behind her as she walked to the prisoner cell block. As she strode through the halls of stone and wood, her mind wandered to what possible use that elf could have for them. Her brows knitted together, what was she thinking?? So what if he can make flashy, colorful explosions with that piece of wood? How can that benefit the clan?

There, she saw Erlyn showing Gelelor the staff. The old hag was tracing her wrinkled thumb over the wood, “...-This is remarkable! It does not even look like it needs a soul gem to charge. It’s teeming with energy but I cannot find it’s function,” she said.

Gelelor scratched the back of his neck, “Maybe it came from a tree like the Eldergleam? I’ve never heard of a magic tree that makes such weapons..” 

“He said something in order for it to work, possibly a weird fireball staff you witches love so much..”, Eigene butted in as she leaned on a cell door. She could hear the Argonian inside slink to the back of the wall in fear of the bandit.

Erlyn glared at the younger woman. Her face wrinkled even more than it already is, “I am no witch, you land-whale with a sword! And to further clarify, this is no destruction staff. All modern destruction staffs are crafted with a special enchanted gold and are in the shape of a dragon. This is wood of some sort Gelelor cannot even identify..”

“That’s why I said ‘weird’,” Eigene countered, ignoring the ancient woman’s insult, she made air quotes as she said ‘weird’.

Erlyn was about to say something, but internally voted against it. She kept her mouth shut and simply scoffed as she motioned for the two younger bandits to follow her.

As they approached the cell the elf is chained up in, they discovered he was stirring from sleep. He immediately began fighting his restraints, his arms were suspended on the wall above him, which didn’t give him much room to make little to any movement. Erlyn softly snickered, “Keep on struggling like that and I just might saw off those arms of your’s~” she said, leaning on the staff.

He immediately stopped, but still held an absolutely terrified expression on his face, “P-please! If I’m chained up here because of that guy, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to kill him..” he cried in a somehow even more wimpier voice prior to blazing Stoldar to the point of no return. The nord woman could taste the remorse in his tone.

She glared at him, “Sorry isn’t going to wish him alive,” Eigene responded. She pointed at him from the outside of the cage, “You’re there and not being dismembered for Alchemy and Necromancy ingredients is because you were in possession of this,” she said. She snatched the staff from Erlyn and presented it.

The elf narrowed his chocolate brown eyes at the weapon, “My staff?..” he questioned. He obviously is not catching on.

“You used it to kill one of our own men. What else can you do with it? Because you have to find some way to prove to us and our chief you’re worth more to us alive than you are dead,” she grunted.

Immediately, that scared him into stuttering, “I-I can do a lot of things with that staff! I c-can levitate things, grow things to be bigger, summon a lightn-”

“Wait-wait-wait! You can make things much larger? For how long? How much bigger?” Gelelor cut him off.

“If I alter it right, for more than a week up to three times bigger..” he said. His brows knitted with concern. He squirmed to better relax his arms that were chained up above him.

Erlyn pulled the two with her as she periodically left the elf’s earshot, “Three times larger. Three. Times. Larger” the hag said.

Gel quickly caught onto her plan, “And we have a gold mine right under us, that is still overflowing with gold and gems!” he piped.

Eigene interjected, “That’s going to bring the jarl’s men to our front door with that kind of business. Besides, it’s going to shrink anyway.”

Erlyn scoffed, “Who said we’re going to stay in this skeever pit? Gold ingots the size of a cat- that’s going to get us at least a thousand septims an ingot!” Eigene and Gelelor stayed silent, “Then at that point, we wouldn’t even need to be bandits fighting over a piece of bread!” she started. She can already picture it, buying herself out of this frozen plane of Oblivion and creating her own witch coven in Cyrodiil, “We already have wheelbarrows loaded with ingots and several workers that are making more as we speak,” the woman said.

Hearing no objections, Erlyn grabbed the key to the elf’s cell and strode towards it. She was cut off by Gel, “What if he takes advantage of having the staff in his hands?”

“You forget that I’m in this clan for a reason, boy. I was an Orphan Rock conjurer. Go get a gold ingot from the mines,” she ordered. Gelelor was quick to dash off while Eigene watched, very disapproving of the situation.

Erlyn unlocks the cell and approaches the elf. When he didn’t look up at her, she forcefully grabbed him by the chin to look up at her. He whimpered in pain from her dagger like nails digging into his jawline, “Make any moves and I’ll sew your mouth and eyes shut,” the hag threatens.

He stays still as she unlocks his restraints and leads him out of his cell. She held him roughly by the arm as she led him to the end of the dungeon, where Gel held the staff out to her, the gold on the stone floor. Erlyn shoved the staff into the elf’s hands and roughly pushed him forward, “Well? Get on with it!” the hag ordered.

He flinched before setting himself in posture to cast the spell, “ _Magmora Gantuan!_ ” he demanded of his staff. Bright blue lights enveloped the end of the tool and spiraled towards the ingot of gold. As it stretched and grew, Eigene narrowed her gaze while both the hag and the archer watched with sheer amazement. When the lights died down, in place of the previously small block of gold sat still, much bigger than it originally was.

Gelelor approached the block and lifted it, with some struggle. His eyes might as well have been shining with how excited he was about the situation. Eigene, on the other hand, was not very happy with this situation at all. She knows something bad is going to come out of this.

At the corner of her eye, she saw the elf inching towards the door of the dungeon. Slowly, but surely. Eigene quickly snatched a steel dagger from her boot and flung it at the male. It narrowly missed, striking the wooden doorframe right next to his head. The action startled him stiff, and alerted Gel and Erlyn. Eigene walked over to him, who was shakily apologizing. The nord woman towered over the youth.

“I-I’m sorry!! I-I-” He was swiftly silenced when Eigene hit his temple. He dropped the staff as he fell, letting it roll to her feet as she looked down at the boy. As Gel and Erlyn rushed to check him to see if he’s actually still alive, the nord picked up the staff and examined the weapon.

She pointed the staff at the wall, “Boombastika?..” she asked quizzically of the staff. Nothing. Not even a glow in it’s wood. Eigene scoffed softly, tossing it to the ground carelessly as the outlaw left the room, and her clan mates.


	3. Dream

Three weeks. Three weeks since Ian had transported himself to this hell. At least, that’s what he thinks. Has it been three weeks? Three months? It doesn’t matter, he cannot take much more of this. Several hours, for the past gods’ know how long, he’s been saying _‘Magmora Gantuan’_ to make gold ingots larger for these humanoids that he’s learn to dub ‘Nords’. He’s also seen an elf, but he looks nothing like him. Tan skin, dark brown hair, black eyes- nothing like him.

He hates this so much, and rightfully so. He’s said _‘Magmora Gantuan’_ so many times he doesn’t ever want to say it again. But as much as he hated those words, they do not invoke as much guilt in him as _‘Boombastia’_. Even thinking of that word makes him sick to his stomach, reminding him that he slaughtered another mortal being, like him. From what he had heard from his cell, as much as he was disliked by others, he was the chief’s younger brother.

Even though he had not seen the face behind the steel helmet, he reminds him of Barley. Large, stocky, burly. The one thing that didn’t make him equivalent to Ian’s goofy brother was the air around him. Everyone quiets down when he enters the room, and if someone dared to challenge him, they ended up with a bottle smashed over their head. That’s nothing like his brother.

His brother.. left wondering where his brother has gone. Does he think he ran away? The thought would break his whole family’s hearts. He felt a tear rush down his bruised cheeks, then another. Before Ian realized it, he was silently weeping, equivalent to some others like him who cry in their cold cells at night. He couldn’t even wipe them away, with his hands shackled above him. He’s become a murderer, and took someone’s life before it should have ended.

He missed his brother, he missed playing Quests of Yore with him, just enjoying each other’s company. He missed his mom, Laurel, who always supported and loved him, even after he came out to her. He even missed Colt and Blazey. Ian just closed his eyes, maybe if he just wishes hard enough it will happen, things will get better. No. That would never happen, this isn’t a fairy tale..

—————

_Ian opened his eyes. Darkness surrounded the young elf as he rubbed his sore wrists. He is no longer chained up and free to roam around. But to roam around where? He’s in an abyss. He took a step forward with bare feet he bore for the past three weeks, while there was solid ground in front of him, it felt cold and hollow, as if he was walking on air. He can recall that from experience, walking through the bottomless pit with confidence he didn’t know he had._

_As the elf continued his confused stride, he felt the area began to slowly grow brighter and more solid. He was in an endless tunnel, with moss hanging down from the stone it depended on for life. It was cold here. The dead, still air was constricting, and might as well choke the boy with it’s icy hands. Yet, he still continued. Bare, scabbed feet gently padding against the solid floor. Ian rubbed his arms, starting to feel a chill as he walked for what seemed like hours, even though he knew it was only a few minutes. For another five minutes, the cold air got worse. He could see his breath in front of him._

_“Murderer...”_

_Ian spun around and gazed into the abyss behind him. “What?..” he asked out loud. The faint whisper that felt like it was right next to his ear ceased to exist. It even sounded similar to his own voice. Is he now starting to imagine things? It felt so real, he even felt warm breath on his neck. He rubbed the back of his neck and continued on walking._

_“You killed me...”_

_Ian turned around again, seeing nothing but darkness behind him. That’s when he began to run. There is no way in hell anything good could come out of staying there with whatever lurked in the darkness. He just focused on what was ahead of him, there has to be an end to this passage._

_But what if there isn’t much more than a dead end? He froze in place, digging his heels into the stone floor out of fear. What if he just traps himself? What if he went the other way? What if-_

_“I didn’t need to die, you monster..”_

_There it was again, voice gurgling on certain words. Ian swallowed his fear and slowly turned to face whatever was ahead. If he’s going to die, he might as well stop prolonging his fate._

_From the murky shadows, that guy he killed emerged with rotting physical features. His eyes are sunken in, they were mostly eaten away by maggots that squirmed in his sockets. The bandit’s skin pulled back horribly to reveal his yellowed teeth, cracked, chipped, and dripping with his own blood that dripped from his mouth. The scorch wounds on his torso where Ian struck him were black, peeled back revoltingly, and oozing a dark red pus where decomposers would call a paradise. It was disgusting. Yet, he didn’t vomit when he would normally spill his stomach’s contents instantly._

_He rasped, “Y-you’re a murderer..” as he weakly pointed a dirty, skeletal finger at him._

_“I-I didn’t mean to!!...” the adolescent elf cried. Tears stung the corners of his eyes. The guilt returned the second he tried to defend his actions. Nothing can justify what he did._

_“You deserve to rot..” he hissed. Suddenly, his skin turned a pale shade of blue, and his facial features shifted disgustingly to look similar to Ian. Blue curls falling out, it began to slowly shift towards the real Ian, skeletal knees wobbling to the point they could give out and break at any second._

_Reacting instantly on fear, Ian spun on his heels to sprint off as fast as his cut up and scabbed legs could take him. This has to be a dream. Is it? It feels all too real. How did he even get here? The monster snarled and gave chase, suddenly having the vitality to run._

_The cold chill ahead grew more intense as he heard the cawing of ravens. His legs begin to burn from running so much, he doesn’t know if he can keep running. From the darkness ahead of him, one of the dark birds fly out past him, scratching his cheek with it’s talons. He didn’t dare look behind him to see if the bird was ok or not. Another flew past him. This time, it left no injury upon Ian. As a few more fly past the elf, leaving a couple cuts on his face, he dared to look behind him._

_The corpse was indeed hot on his trail, but the crows were slowing it down. They were pecking and nipping at the rotting duplicate of Ian, greedily pecking and pulling at the monster’s flesh. Some were clinging onto it’s head and ripping at it’s eye sockets to pick out the mucus the maggots inside._

_Ian kept running, but he doesn’t know how much longer he can move before his legs give out. Suddenly, a flock of ravens _whoosh_ past him, scratching and bumping into him as they flocked to the corpse. Ian turned to look over his shoulder once more. It began to howl in pain as more of the birds ripped and wolfed away at the corpse. It swung it’s arms around in an attempt to deter the birds from continuing their assault. It only fuels their ravenous hunger as a few nip at the corpse’s arms. Ian just kept running, seeing it distracted enough to stop and try to scare the birds away._

_It’s screams of pain and anger faded into nothing behind him. Ian slowed to a walk to regain his energy he may need for later should the thing come after him again. He looked ahead, seeing a bright light at the end of the tunnel. The elf smiled brightly and hopefully, he found the end! He can be free of this dark tunnel! He ran forward, hoping to see what’s outside. Will it be a forest? A tundra? A desert? It doesn’t matter, he’ll see soon enou-_

—————

“Wake up!”

Ian was awoken by that same grating voice that’s been threatening to do horrible things to him all this time. He looked up, seeing her wrinkled face beyond the bars of the cell he was shackled in. She had her arms casually resting against the bars.

She cleared her voice, “I’ve got.. news. You can interpret whether it’s good or bad,” she croaked. “You’re not working as usual today, the chief has plans for you.”


	4. Wolf

As she came in to free him from his shackles, he dared to ask, “What kind?..”

“You’ll see soon. Stademar Horse-Eater wants to see what kind of magic you’re capable of..” she mumbled. After tying his hands behind his back, she threw a tan colored sack over his head. This put Ian into a small panic, but he was held firm by his arm, “Calm down! You’re not dying, we don’t want you knowing your way around the fort in case you start getting ideas.”

He stopped struggling, but it didn’t ease his panic either, and just let her lead him through the fort. He kept his head down the whole time. What is going to happen to him? Are they going to kill him? It wouldn’t make sense, though. Why kill him if he’s bringing so much wealth to them? A metallic smell faintly reached his nose. Why does it smell so familiar? He remembers it faintly from his childhood.

Then it came to him. He remembers falling off his bike when he was seven, and bloodied his nose horribly. He remembers tasting blood for the first time. The iron in the air was coupled with what he can only imagine as the smell of death. Ian pulled back, away from the hag’s grip, but was roughly pulled along with her. Damn his lack of muscle. As he was given no choice but to follow through another set of squeaking doors, he felt his stomach turn. The revolting ‘eggy’ smell of death crossed him as they kept walking. Bile rose in his throat. It burned painfully, but he kept it down in his body.

When he was brought into a conversation filled area, he heard the room silence itself, and gazes burning through him. That’s when he heard the threatening voice he’s only heard a few times.

“The clan gathers for the final pit fight! The wolf we recently caught has proven to be _quite_ the monster! Several of our little ’combatants’ have fallen to this beast!” he shouted. Ian tensed up. A wolf? Haven’t those been wiped out from the world nearly a decade ago, and the only remainder of their legacy are the terrible wolf-dragon crosses? This shook him into struggling again, and again, stilled by the woman.

“Now, this will either be a feeding or an actual fight! For the very elf that killed Stoldar Horse-Eater is giving back in just more than gold!”

Ian was near blinded by the sudden light when the sack was lifted off his head. Some murmured in harsh tones to one another, having never seeing Ian before. He looked around, seeing many torches lined up to provide light to the room. He looked past the bars and saw _it_. A large beast with white fur and mange stood in the middle of the arena, snarling at anyone who threw a piece of rubble or a pebble at it. It looked very similar to the early photographs and drawings of the animal in all it’s savage glory. A few concerned voices piped throughout the room, “A child? Come on, chief..” one of the Nords mumbled. The burly man held up a hand. The Nord was silenced immediately.

“Throw him in with that staff of his,” the chief said darkly. He bore a scowl at Ian the entire time. “We’ll see just how powerful he is against a Skyrim born beast!”

“Wait! Don’t do this-!” Ian protested, but was cut off by being untied and pushed into the steel barred arena by the woman. The wolf looked away from one of the bandits, who threw a piece of bone at the animal, and at the scrawny youth. His staff was tossed in with him, which he took hastily before the monster on the other side of the giant cage could get any more agitated than it already is. He looked at it dead in the eyes by mistake. Golden orbs of primal rage met his brown doe-eyes.

It charged forward with bared teeth, still dripping blood from it’s last victim. He raised the staff in front of him to block the wolf’s gnashing blades. He was successful, but only for a period of five seconds before it let go to circle him in the arena. A nerve induced bead of sweat ran down his forehead as he kept track of it. As it circled ever nearer, Ian realized he is going to need to kill it if he ever hopes to make it out of here alive and see his family again.

Ian took a deep breath in, it’s not a person. He can do this. Seeing a shard of broken glass resting by the bars of the glorified cage Ian was trapped in, he nodded at his own discrete plan.

It was when the wolf made another attempt to sink it’s fangs in Ian’s arm did he act on his plan, “ _Aloft Elevar!_ ” he shouted. The glass rose instantly and pointed itself at the charging wolf, provoking some gasps from the observers outside of the arena. Before the beast noticed the levitating glass, Ian hurled it at the white wolf, striking it at it’s hip and lodging the shard into it. The canine yelped, but against what Ian had planned, continued it’s attack.

The beast lunged at the elf, pinning him to the ground and knocking his staff away in the process. To narrowly avoid his head being crushed in the wolf’s bloody maw, acting fast, he put his left arm in the way. The white wolf snapped it’s jaws upon Iandore’s arm, yanking back and crushing his forearm under the insane pressure of a starved, angry animal.

“ _Gahh!_ ” Ian cried out in pain. Tears stung his eyes. For some reason, there was little pain. It was but a pinch, but tears still flowed from his face. Maybe it was the adrenaline that didn’t allow him to feel the shredding pain in his arm. He could barely hear the bloodthirsty cheers of the Nords through his own screams and the wolf’s growling.

He mustered up enough energy to deliver an adrenaline fueled kick at the wolf’s hip, where the glass laid imbedded. It not just drove the glass deeper, out the other end of it’s hipbone, cutting his foot in the process, but caused a lot of blood to spurt from the much more open wound. The wolf let out a yelp-snarl and released hold on Ian. It limped around, trying to find another angle to actually subdue him.

Ian grabbed his staff with his good arm, backing up into the bars and leaning on them to inspect his wound. Blood dripped down his arm, dribbling from the ripped flesh in his arm where the faintest flash of bone could be seen. Ian looked up upon hearing another incoming attack from the beast.

Immediately, he thought of using the firework attack, but.. the haunting memory of searing that man alive stopped him. Instead, he opted for a riskier move.

As the wolf leaped at Ian, maw of death open to rip his throat asunder, time seemed to slow. The cheering, blood still pouring from the canid’s hip, bloody glass glinting through the thick red liquid in the torch’s light, everything.

“ _Voltar Thundasir!_ ” Ian roared as he pointed the staff up at the predator initially ready to come out victorious. Lighting erupted from the end of the staff, shooting up and striking the wolf straight in the chest. Time turned back to normal as the beast was thrown back, into the bars. When it fell to the ground, it’s muscles spasmed as the wolf’s chest stilled. White fur stood up, charred black where the arcane lighting struck it’s chest.

Ian only heard the door opening and his own uneven breaths when he blacked out, the one thought that struck his mind was _‘Wow, that actually worked..’_

—————

“Hail, thane! Here for your horse?” Skulvar Sable-Hilt questioned the approaching mage. The mage was young, a little too young to be wandering around Skyrim in the eyes of most Mer. White locks poked out of his hood, which protected his pale, youthful face from the harsh elements. A sword, black as a starless night, rested at his hip. He strolled over to the paddock where a white dapple mare was housed.

He nodded, smiling, “Yup, I’m out to investigate for the jarl,” the Dunmer said. “He’s suspicious of the sudden increase in trading between Fort Brightun and small settlements.”

Leading out the mare by her reins, he cocked an eyebrow, “Wasn’t that fort all but destroyed and abandoned in the Great War?”

The thane of Whiterun took the reins from Skulvar, scratching behind his beloved horse’s ear, “That’s what I said! But he just concluded that some bandits or a bunch of drifters moved in and are trading with other settlements,” the elf began. “So here I am, about to go do weekly pest control and secure what’s left of the fort. Balgruuf offered to send some men with me, but he underestimates how easily I can just pull a brick out from the old thing and watch it crumble!” he joked.

The aging stable hand chuckled, leaning against the frame. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s all you did to weed out the scum of Whiterun Hold. This is probably just another Sundas morning for you.”

The mage hopped on his steed’s back, he patted her neck to let her know to start moving, “Damn straight it is!” he hollered back as the horse began to gallop away from the stables.

The mage, Loki, let his mage hood fall from his face, letting his shoulder length hair whip around in the breeze. Kynareth’s winds toyed with the youth’s locks as he took in the fresh air of the morning. He appreciated mornings like this, peaceful, breezy, most likely the goddess herself is giving him a nice morning before he proceeds to burn a bandit clan to a crisp.

As he took in the morning sun, his blue eyes hooked on a fort that did indeed look very old. But looks can be deceiving, Saadia had shown that much a couple years prior. He spotted two fur clad Nords chatting casually while leaning on the door. Bandits, just as he and the jarl suspected. He had his mare slow down to a stop, enveloping themselves under a tree’s shade. He dismounts the white dapple and pets her nose, “Stay here Skadi, I’ll be right back..” he mumbles to her. The aged mare nudged his face endearingly, as if she was telling him to be careful.

He pulled the hood over his head and casually approached the bandits. Immediately, they drew their weapons. One, a war axe, belonging to the stouter and war-like of the two. The other, twin daggers in the grip of a human equivalent of a twig. Is he even a Nord?

Loki raised his hands submissively, “Hold, friends! I’m just here to visit-”

“We don’t want your company, elf. Best you turn back around and go back to where you came from,” the bulkier of the two warned threateningly.

Loki sighed, turning around and walking away, “Well then, I see where we stand..”

“Yeah, keep walking! we’re watching you!”

The mage smirked lightly, cracking his knuckles, “Not close enough, it seems...” He spun around, flinging a few ice spikes from his palms! One strikes the weaker bandit, impaling him on the ice, straight through the heart. Blood gushed from the wound, and left a permanently shocked expression on the brunette. The bulky blonde exclaimed in surprise, but dodged the attack. He rolled to the side, narrowly missing a few spikes to the gut.

The bandit looked at the ground where the ice once was, deeply dented earth with permafrost surrounding it. He snarled, charging at Loki with his axe ready to hack the boy’s spell casting arms clean off. The elf responded with one word.

“ ** _Zun!_** ”

The gust of wind that blew forth in Loki’s voice snapped the axe out of the bandit’s hand, flying into a tree and imbedding it’s sharp blade in the trunk. The bandit gazed at his hands, dazed by the feeling of suddenly no longer having his axe. In confusion, he didn’t hear a sharp blade being unsheathed from it’s sheathe. When he looked back up, a blade he could only define as a sliver of darkness shredded his head straight from his body.

Loki flicked the crimson liquid from his ebony sword before sheathing it. As he passively walked by the fresh corpses of his fallen enemies, he opened the creaking door to Fort Brightun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zun (Weapon)


	5. Mage

Loki treaded softly, careful to not let others know of his arrival. He knew at one point he will need to break his element of surprise, but not when there is a possibility that the fort is loaded with bandits. As he turned the corner, he quickly retreated upon hearing dialogue between three approaching thugs.

“Think he’ll lose that arm? He got pretty chewed up by that wolf,” one questioned. A female redguard’s voice. “If I’m going to be honest with you two, I didn’t think chief was right to do that..”

“Oh, definitely, but it’ll just fall off after a while once the infection chews all the way through. There’s no way Stademar will waste any herbs or healing potions on an elf,” another said.

“Will it affect his ability to make those ingots bigger?” the female voice asked.

“The question is, ‘How much will it affect him?’ if we’re lucky, those ingots will be half the size he’s able to grow them into...” a third voice said.

“Hah! We can always just beat him into making them big again!”

Loki drew his sword, hearing their footsteps draw very close, “Want to bet how wasted on skooma Farud and Jorkur will be outside?-”

The mage leaped out from behind the corner and slashed his sword across one of their throats, spraying blood in the direction his blade’s path! By the time the body hit the floor with a thud, Loki had encased the second solid in ice. The woman barely got her sword out of it’s sheathe when the elf had her pinned up against the stone wall with the blood smeared sword pressed against her throat.

“How many of you are here?” Loki interrogated.

She quivered in fear, seeing how quickly he just massacred her friends, “O-oh gods, am I going to die!?-”

“Just tell me what I need to know, and I won’t kill you,” Loki softly hushed. He was a few inches shorter than her, but he still held a much stronger force on her. He looked around to see if there are any approaching bandits that could have heard the altercation, “How many of you live here?”

The woman didn’t dare alert the others, “A-about thirty four-”

“Who’s the chief? What’s his main choice of weapon?”

“His name is..” she hesitated. If Stademar survives this little grey-skin and learns that she sold him out, he would no doubt hunt her down personally. “..Is Stademar Horse-Eater. He w-wields a Battleaxe he sharpens every other day. P-please, just don’t kill me.”

Loki stepped away, releasing the Nordic woman. He pulled out a small pouch of gold and tossed it to her, “Take this and run away, leave Skyrim if you can,” he said.

All she did was run out of the fort wordlessly.

Loki dashed down the stairs, coming to a room he always saw in keeps. A small bar with mead and wine lined up, several tables with food littered about. The moment he walked into the room, he unintentionally alerted the couple dozen of bandits feasting and drinking.

The room was quiet. All eyes were focused on him, with the bartender still pouring a mug of mead, one frozen in place about to take a bite of cooked beef. It didn’t help that the elf’s robes were splattered with blood of their clan mates, as well as his ebony blade that was also dripping fresh blood. “Oops..” chaos ensued immediately.

Immediately, he flipped the nearest table on it’s side to protect him from any archers or spell casters. He hid behind it with his against the top. Loki flung a spell behind him, a Flame Atronach, to periodically ward off some of them while he worked to whittle down their numbers. Loki flung a couple frenzy spells at some bandits to further spiral the room into chaos. The bartender jumped over the bar and into the fray, wielding a dagger. “Bastard! He killed Farud and Jorkur no doubt!” he hollered.

Loki hurled firebolts into the fray from behind his hiding spot, killing a dozen easily and quickly and catching several more on fire. He cursed his luck when more bandits joined in an attempt to dispatch the young elf. Seeing the conjured Atronach begin to become overwhelmed, the mage was beginning to weigh in his odds at surviving. Why didn’t he let Jarl Balgruuf send men with him again? Should he play his trump card against them? He would be very weak afterwards, but it would protect him from any attacker. The Atronach was dealt a harsh blow to the head, causing it to disintegrate before blasting forward as a final attack, setting fire to a few more bandits. He looked over the table and counted the remaining bandits. Ten were still standing and not hurt bad enough for them to show physical discomfort. “Agh.. screw it..” Loki murmured.

He hurled himself over the table, ebony sword in one hand, an ice spell in the other. He buried his blade deep inside the bandit’s gut closest to him, he ripped his blade out, sending his intestines flying and the outlaw to his knees in an attempt to recover his lost organs. Nine.

Before the others could react and hinder him, he swung the ebony sword up into another’s skull and swiftly ripped it from his head. Eight.

The bartender slashed his blade at Loki’s arm, the elf hissed at the pain, and responded to the attack with an ice spike to the man’s face. Seven.

He swiftly jumped behind the bar and ducked before flinging a duel casted fireball at the remaining bandits. A large _boom_ shook the fort’s structure. A few clumps of dust and dirt from the ceiling fell around Loki. Silence. Not hearing any movement, Loki slowly peered over the bar to see the absolute carnage strewn about the place. _Zero_. 

The smell of burnt flesh finally hit the cross’ nose. He brought his robe over it in an effort to mask himself from the smell, but it wasn’t new to him. He’s pulled that maneuver numerous times in the past three years of living in Skyrim.

Unmasking his nose upon leaving the room, Loki continued on, rubbing the cut that he sustained in the fight that’s already scabbing up. He predicted he had downed about twenty seven of them so far. Was it twenty seven? Some were fused together while a few others were little less than ashes. Eh.. who needs numbers for that anyway? What he knows for sure is that the next poor soul who wanders into the fort will have a sight to see in that room. He looked down at himself, seeing his robes were also stained a brilliant and unmistakable red. He’s going to need to scrub it out. 

It was when he heard conversation ahead, did he hide behind a barrel to listen.

“I didn’t think he was going to survive to tell you the truth. Was counting my septims and everything to make sure I had enough to leave this skeever-hole,” he heard the voice of an old woman. He peered over the barrel and spotted a group of four bandits. A Nord, most likely a witch, a Bosmer, and a couple Nords.

“You shouldn’t speak ill of Skyrim! Chief could poke his head around the corner at any given second, then he’s going to feed you to Slaughterfish for that,” the Bosmer exclaimed.

“Oh, cry me a river, boy! Do you think he’s going to defend this land when even he knows how torn apart it is?” the woman barked at him.

“Speaking of crying, where’s that little girlfriend of yours? She was fuming when she left this morning. Missed that whole fight,” one of the brunette Nords piped up, wearing a smug grin.

The Mer rolled his eyes, “First of all, Eigene and I aren’t wedded in any shape or form. Second of all- why was she pissed off, _Erlyn_? You and her were having a pretty heated argument before she stormed off,” the elf said, cocking an eyebrow at the hag.

She scoffed, “She didn’t like the idea of Stademar getting his feet wet. She wouldn’t stop complaining about how there are other ways to discover his magic.”

Loki narrowed his eyes. This doesn’t add up, he’s going to go digging for information once he clears the place of bandits. He dashed out from the barrel, hurling a fireball at the group. Most of them dodged, save for the Nord that hasn’t spoken the whole time. Even when the fireball hit him, he was mute and didn’t make any noise as he fell to the floor lifelessly.

The old woman took cover behind a corner, charging up a spell. The elf nocked an arrow on his bow while the remaining Nord male dashed forward with his mace drawn. Loki constantly deflected the attacks before thrusting his sword forward, it broke right through his sternum and straight through his back. When the woman stepped out from her hiding spot to shoot the lightning bolt, it instead struck the human shield Loki had protecting him. He bolted forward, hearing the _thunks_ of arrows digging into flesh as he drew closer. He threw the body at the woman, causing her to fall backwards with a two hundred pound sack of meat on top of her. 

He flung a few ice spikes at the male, but he had planned for this. He barrel rolled to the side before shooting an arrow at Loki. He moves his head to the side, narrowly missing the arrow as it whizzed past his pointed ear and wedged itself between the stone bricks. He didn’t have time to nock another arrow when the mage slashed his sword across his throat. The elf looked up at Loki with shocked and bloodshot eyes. He shortly afterwards fell into a puddle of his own blood.

He ducked, hearing another lightning bolt being charged up. It struck the wall above him, leaving a small burn mark on the wall. Thinking fast, he yanked his steel dagger out of his boot, and flung it at her. It buried itself in her trachea. Blood gurgled in her throat, pouring from both the plugged wound and her mouth as she attempted to stop the bleeding. Loki quickly walked over, drew it out effortlessly, and beheaded the witch the moment the dagger came loose from her windpipe. He then polished the sharp weapon clean of blood before resting it back in his boot. 

Loki prepared to go deal with the chief when he saw a key dangling on a necklace of the bandit he hurled a fireball at. He walked over and pulled the key from his necklace and inspected it. A simple copper key with a few scratches here and there. He stashed it away in his pocket, possibly the cell key to the prisoner block somewhere around here.

He walked into the room the chief was in. The moment he walked in, he was met with a near cleaved off head. Loki only narrowly escaped being beheaded by quick reflexes. The battle axe wedged itself into the wooden door where his head was. He was about to draw his sword when a large, hairy hand grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the wall. When he opened his eyes, he saw the glinting emerald orbs behind an iron helmet. Loki would compare Stademar Horse-Eater to a minotaur. Burly stature, blonde hair that reaches just shy of his shoulders, and his raw grip on the youth’s windpipe.

“You come here, kill my men, make a mess of everything I’ve worked hard to build up. Why shouldn’t I snap your neck like the little skeever you are?” he growled through gritted teeth.

“C-cause I’ll... _I’ll_..” Loki choked, fingers clawing at the brigand’s arm to let him go. He grit his teeth. Stademar made a mental note how strong the boy was.

“You’ll what?”

He lessened his grip on Loki to let him breathe and speak, “Cause I’ll... kill you first!!” Loki kicked out from underneath him, and into the bandit chief’s belly. Stademar recoiled, letting Loki loose. He clutched his abdomen in pain as the boy rubbed his bruising neck.

He growled, still feeling the sheer force of that kick, “By Ysmir, you’ll pay for that!..” Stademar snarled. He ripped his axe out of the door, taking splinters of wood with it. Loki clenched his palms, setting them alight with arcane fire. Stademar charged forward, battle axe raised to behead the mage. He repeatedly swung the axe around, each being nimbly dodged by the elf hybrid.

He wasn’t prepared for the words to erupt from the small elf’s gullet, _“ **Tiid, Klo!** ”_ The elf disappeared, with a gust of wind swooshing in his direction.

“What the-”

 _Shhk_ A sharp pain ripped through the bandit’s back and from his belly. Coughing up blood, he looked down in confusion. Protruding from his steel armor, he could see the glint of ebony through his own blood.

_‘I didn’t even see him coming..’_ Stademar thought to himself. The sword was ripped out, causing the dying plunderer to fall forward. He dropped his battle axe as his hands went to the wound that made up his abdomen. As his vision blurred, he looked up at the stone ceiling, and the mage wielding the sword still dripping with his blood.

Loki didn’t look back at the bandit chief as he left the room. He’s learned to not look back, as he was taught before many times, ‘The person you have drawn your blade on was most likely not deserving of your mercy to begin with..’ 

He pulled the key out of his pocket, walking into the prisoner block. Now, he has seen many accounts of bandits having servants to look after them, but that was just one or two people. He was appalled, opening a cell door to two roughspin tunic clad women holding onto eachother and shivering in the cold of their cell. At first, they didn’t move, scared of the source of screaming caused by the very same people who destroyed their lives. Loki held the door out more, stepping out of the way, “Don’t be scared, I’m not here to hurt you,” he said. Slowly, the two women emerge from the cell, one still unsure while the other hugged the Dunmer.

“Gods bless you, we thought we were going to die here..” she murmured. The woman led her companion out of the prisoner block.

Loki worked to free more of the slaves, some were shackled up, starving, and needed help fleeing the fort. As many pass by him, he received praises in all different shapes and tones. Most thanked him tearfully, while some just ran by him without a word. Then there were the ones who were already dead, curled up in their cells, but there was little to be done about them..

It was when he opened one cell and walked in to unshackle the last of the prisoners. He noticed something was off. He was the only one alone in the cell, and was near unconscious by the time Loki had unshackled him.

“N-no..” the elven boy whimpered when he faintly saw Loki’s silhouette enter the cold, dark cell. He didn’t fight, and only weakly turned his head away.

Loki raised a hand in submission, “Hey, it’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to free you..” he comforted him. Upon unlocking his shackles, he fell forward in the mage’s arms feebly, gasping softly as he met the warmth of Loki’s magical robes. With the very little strength he had left, the elf looked up at the face of his savior. Before he could though, he fell unconscious. His bloody arm draped uselessly towards the floor. Loki gasped lightly in realization that this was the boy that fought a wolf. Was he unarmed as he fought? Did the poor bastard have a weapon at least? He inspected his arm, the blood had dried and scabbed over, but it looked prone to infection. If it didn’t find the care of a proper healer soon, his arm would have to be hacked off.

Without a second thought, he scooped up the thin boy bridal style, noting how light he was. Loki was careful with his arm as he stood up and left the cold, damp cell. As Loki walked past the cells, he noticed something propped up in a weapon rack. With a free arm, he grabbed it and inspected it. It looked like a glorified tree branch, sanded down on some parts with a grip towards the head of the odd branch. He would have put it back when he felt a strange energy amidst the fibers of the wood, similar to a wooden mask he held in his hands a couple years prior. The same energies one would use to identify an enchanted piece of clothing or weapon. He decided to bring it with him, perhaps Farengar could take a look at it. As he walked out of Fort Brightun with the staff and boy in tow, he had his attention focused on the elf he held in his arms. Pale blue skin, dark blue curls, freckles plastered on a face with bruises and cuts here and there. He looked reminiscent of someone with split Dunmer heritage. If he survives, maybe Loki would have someone to talk to, as he has never really met a cross like himself.

As he approached Skadi, the mare was initially intrigued by the figure in her owner’s arms, she softly nudged his face with her nose. Loki looked at her with concern in his eyes. He slung the boy over her back, face down, before mounting her behind the stranger. “To Whiterun, Danica Pure-Spring will know what to do..” he mumbled to his horse. As they took off and left the fort behind, he looked down at the boy.

“At least, I hope she does..”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that’s the first part of the series. In short summary, Ian accidentally transports himself to Skyrim, and is captured and enslaved by bandits. Then a mage named Loki comes, saves him, kills the bandits, and frees the slaves held there for much longer. Please leave a comment how you feel about the series so far, I’d really appreciate it.
> 
> I’m also bored and curious about other people’s head canons on Ian/Onward so if anyone wants to go off about their head canons I’m all ears uwu. Just no IanxBarley stuff, this is an incest free zone.
> 
> Tiid (time)  
> Klo (sand)


	6. Temple

“T-thank you.. I feel better already..” the sickly child rasped. He looked up at the priestess through foggy, yellowed eyes. He smiled crookedly, as if he was in pain. Danica pressed the back of her hand to his forehead, feeling a boiling temperature in the process. She sighed and shook her head, reapplying a cloth soaked in cold water. She gently gave the boy’s hand a reassuring squeeze. She was about to consult with her apprentice about further medical attention for the boy, who had contracted bone break fever, when the doors to the temple were opened rather suddenly.

Danica Pure-Spring was startled, and turned around to scold the culprit behind the loud and sudden action when she saw Loki. What caught her attention even more was the elven boy he was carrying in his arms. “Oh no, what happened?” she worryingly questioned. The mage himself looked like he took a blood bath, with clothes spattered with blood. The boy himself was much worse, with a mutilated arm and thin stature. It could be minor malnutrition.

“I was out doing the Jarl’s bidding when I found him in a bandit fort,” Loki responded.

She gently inspected his arm. It was very obviously a wolf inflicted bite, those teeth marks that were all too familiar with her. She called over her shoulder, “Acolyte! Come quick!”

The Nord approached rather quickly, concerned of what his mentor called him over for, “Help move this elf into a bed. He needs medical attention immediately,” she ordered as she wiped down a vacant bed with a damp towel.

“Would hardly call those slabs of rock ‘beds’.”

“Will you just help me get him onto one?” Danica retorted irritably. The boy needed help, and she didn’t need Acolyte to be a smart ass at the moment. He didn’t argue further, and assisted take the elven boy out of Loki’s arms.

“Do you need any help?” the Dunmer asked.

Rushing around to get some rags and healing potions, she shook her head, “No, but-” she cut herself off, spotting a rip in the male’s robes, and a slice in his arm that, while not as major as the blue elf’s injuries, would still be easily infected. “What in oblivion is that? Why didn’t you tell me you were also hurt?”

Loki held his arm up, “Oh yeah, that,” he moved his arm around with a soft chuckle, “Huh, it just stopped stinging after a while-” He was grabbed by his non-injured arm and led to a chair.

“Robes, off,” the healer said sternly as she grabbed bandages and a cure disease potion. Loki obliged with a sigh, leaving himself in pants that ran all the way down to his ankles, needing to be rolled up every once in a while to avoid getting the ends dirty. While Acolyte tended to the blue elf’s wounds, Danica Pure-Spring cleaned the Dunmer’s cut and wrapped it firmly in bandages.

She screwed the cap off of the potion and poured a quarter of it into a small cup, before crushing up some wheat to add an extra property to the medicine. She handed it to Loki, “Drink. It will make sure you didn’t contract anything.”

“Danica, you don’t need to waste any of your medicine on me. I can’t get-”

“-You can’t contract any diseases?” She guffawed at his assumption as she continued grinding some wheat away in a mortar and pestle. “Come now, even the Dovahkiin, slayer of dragons and Alduin’s bane, can catch something as ordinary as rockjoint. Am I right?” She queried.

Loki looked down at the cup he held in his hand. He swished around the medicine, “Right..” he downed the fluid in one gulp before wincing at the bitter taste it harbored. He handed the cup back to Danica, “There’s a reason why I eat the actual ingredients instead of a potion..”

She scoffed softly, handing him a spare tunic so he can get his bloody robes washed. He quickly pulled on the tunic and folded up his robes, “Why not just drink the potion and avoid the additional effects?-”

“-I’ll be back in a few hours to return the tunic!” Loki exclaimed rather quickly before running out the doors of the temple.

Danica sighed, shaking her head. “That boy..” she chuckled lightly. It can’t be helped. However, she turned her attention to the elf dropped into her care, this one can be helped.

———

With his robes tucked firmly under his arm, Loki walked into the halls of Jorrvaskr, and took in the fresh smell of baked bread and venison. A few pairs of eyes turned to him, but most went on to mind their own business, wolfing down at the meals no doubt hunted in the plains that morning, or bought fresh from the markets. He strode down to a plate of boiled cream treats just lying around the table. He reached out for the sweet morsel, but was captured in a headlock all too familiar to him. Farkas.

“C’mon Loki! It’s been three years, you should have built up some muscle, whelp!” he teased as Loki struggled to get his head out of his sheild-brother’s grasp.

“Let me go! I haven’t eaten anything all day!” The young mage whined. He’s all but dropped his blood stained clothes in favor of attempting to free himself of the steel grip known as Farkas’ bicep.

Farkas finally let go when Aela the Huntress waved him away, “Let go of him before you break his neck, oaf,” she said. He huffed playfully and let Loki go. He joined most of his other shield siblings, feasting on a cut of venison.

“Thanks Aela, I was going to take a bite out of his arm if he didn’t let go..” he joked softly. He refolded his robes, but was partially interrupted when she clapped him on the back.

“Don’t mention it, Harbinger. Take something quickly before a mudcrab bigger than you comes in and grabs those treats you like so much,” she joked before heading out the doors of Jorrvaskr, most likely to go hunt in the plains of Whiterun.

He scoffed, picking up one and taking a bite as he prepared to go wash his robes in the stream down by the pond the dungeon eventually leads out to. He stopped when the maid, Tilma the Haggard, approached. “You don’t need to wash those, dear. I can do it,” she hummed.

“Oh- thank you, Tilma, but I can do it myself,” Loki responded respectfully.

“I insist! You help Whiterun too much and yourself too little, even for a Companion. You can have them back in but a couple hours,” she chimed, gently taking hold of the robes. He didn’t fight her on that one. He had been spending the past few weeks sweeping out bandit hideouts. He just sighed, giving her his robes and watching her walk away, humming in contentment.

Loki walked out of Jorrvaskr and up into Dragonsreach, ignoring Heimskr’s preaching as he strode up the stone steps, still damp from last night’s rain. As he opened the doors and ambled past the warm fire keeping all sorts of food warm, his thoughts wandered to what the elderly maid had said. _‘You help Whiterun too much...’_

“Come to collect the bounty for Fort Brightun’s bandits?” Proventus Avenicci interrupted Loki’s thoughts. 

He snapped back into reality, “Wha- oh! Yeah! Thanks!” he exclaimed. Loki graciously took the purse filled with gold.

Apparently, this caught the attention of Jarl Balgruuf, hearing the thane in slight disconnection to reality. He cocked an eyebrow, “Something ail you, Dragonborn?” he asked from his position on the throne.

Loki shook his head, “N-nothing really. Just.. ran into trouble with those bandits. There were a bunch sanctioned up at that fort,” he half-lied. He was indeed caught off guard with how many of those plunderers resided in Fort Brightun.

“Should have accepted my offer to dispatch some men or Irileth with you..” he replied, stretching sleepily in the throne.

Loki just waved off the Jarl, “Alert me of the next giant or bandit hideout that bothers Whiterun!” he called back as he left Dragonsreach to go off and join Aela in her hunt.

Irileth, the dark elf in question, looked to the side at the jarl. “Are you really going to let him know of the next bounty, my lord?”

He chuckled very softly as he rested his head on his hand, “Probably not.”


	7. Priestess

_Ian looked around. He was in a void.. again. He sighed, in a tone both irritated and fearful. Will that same monster come looking for him? Will it look the same? Or had the ravens picked away so much that there is only a few ribbons of flesh clinging to it’s face? He checked his arm, the skin where he was attacked was healed over, not a scratch. He narrowed his eyes, he feels just like he did in that nightmare._

_And just like last time, all he did was close his eyes. When he opened them, unlike before, where he was placed in a cold, stone hallway, he was in a snowy forest. He stepped forward, placing his bare foot into the cold chill of the snow. At least it felt nice and soft, unlike the awfully rough stone floor he had grown used to in those halls... in that prison._

_He took in a deep breath, feeling the chilly air fill his lungs, before being exhaled blissfully in his hot breath. The air was fresh, cold, but clean. As he strode through the forest, he started to slowly become more on edge. Yes, he was out in the open at last. Yes, he did enjoy the beautiful contrast of plain white snow against the pine trees. But there were no animals around, at least, none that he can see or hear. He was only left alone with the nature he so longed for when he was kept barely alive by the Nords._

_It felt all too real, even though by now, he’s certain he’s dreaming. Is he?_

“Scraaw!” _Ian looked up in the trees, where a single black raven gazed down at him. Eyes a bright violet, they bore through Ian as if he were a piece of meat, soon to be scarfed down. It flew off into the forest, knocking snow down from the branch and onto the elf._

_He suddenly heard growling. The sky turned dark with the sudden cloud of birds blocking out the gorgeous sunset. Immediately, his flight response kicked in, and he ran away from the noise that most often meant something bad was around. As he ran, leaving tracks in the snow, more ravens began to perch on the branches above him. There had to be hundreds, and as Ian ran by, their gazes were dead set on him._

_‘Oh gods, am I next?! They probably killed that monster, are they waiting for me to die too?’ he thought. The strangled growls and snarls grew louder behind him, but he didn’t feel or hear the snow crunching other than his own. The amount of ravens resting on the branches above him were in the thousands now, as many flew up in the sky above him, clouding out the rising full moons with their greasy wings._

_Ian fell to the ground, his legs rendered useless after running for so long. He tried to get up and keep going, but his legs burned and ached so horribly, they were equivalent to jelly when he tried to stand. As more of the black feathered birds began to settle on the crowded branches and cease their flight, the moons were more visible, and in return, the growls became more intense. They began to circle him, these growls. He doesn’t even see the owner of these horrific sounds, which only terrified him even more._

_“Please let this be a nightmare.. please..” he whimpered, curling up into a fetal position in submission, protecting his head with his arms and hands. When he looked up, he only saw the flare of hungry, blue eyes rushing at him from the darkness-_  
———

Ian was shaken awake by a Nord woman. Upon being awoken, he cried out, pushing himself away from her. “Get away from me!” He cried out defensively. What if she’s with those other barbarians? He fell back off of the stone slab he was on, hitting the stone brick floor.

“Calm down! Calm down! You’re safe! You’re not in Fort Brightun anymore!” she exclaimed, holding up her hands in defense. Another Nord with a sharper complexion, unlike the woman, rushed in to see what all the commotion was.

Ian got a better look at the man and woman. They were both garnered in robes of warm hues, and they looked much cleaner than those Nords. “Brightun?..” he rasped out questioningly. He looked around, seeing that he was in a temple mostly empty, save for himself and the robed Nords.

The Nord man reached out a hand, “Come, I’m sure you will want an explanation on where you are,” he said, smiling slightly. Ian began to shakily reach out with his left hand, but recoiled upon feeling a sting in his arm. He used his other hand to be pulled up.

Ian inspected his arm. He was very surprised to see that it was mostly healed up, just a small pinkish scar where the wound once was. “H-hey! Didn’t I have a bloody arm when I was brought here? What day is it?” he asked.

The woman gently led him along to a small room set away from the rest of the temple. A small wash tub filled with water sat in the middle of the room. “It’s the first of Morning Star. It would be the New Life Festival tonight, but Skyrim has been _preoccupied_ for the past few years. The only celebration tonight would be free drinks,” the woman told him. “As for your arm, that would be the work of restoration magic, healing potions, and Kynareth’s blessing. If you were found even a couple days later, infection would have no doubt eaten your arm away. It will be sore for a few days so I would advise you to avoid using it for any exerting activity.”

“Morning St- wait- magic did this?!-” Ian was cut off by being given a folded set of clothes and boots.

“We will answer all of your questions once you’ve bathed and put on some clothes,” the man said. They left the room closing the door behind them.

Ian sighed, looking down at the clothes. He set them on the floor and began to strip himself of the rags he garnished previously. Those bandits took Ian’s original clothes, a blue button up and jeans, threw them into a fire, and forced him to wear the itchy, ripped up rags instead.

———

Ian still shivered a little as he dried himself off. The water was very cold, but he feels much more clean after scrubbing his skin of grime and blood. The once clean and pristine water is now an ugly shade of brown. Upon fully dressing himself, it gave him the opportunity to see what he was actually wearing. They were robes, akin to the ones the two Nords were wearing. The leather boots that protected his feet from the elements were snug, but they were a nice change from nothing at all.

He walked out of the room, and was met with the two Nords. The woman smiled, “My name is Danica Pure-Spring,” she said, and bowed her head, “This is my apprentice, Acolyte,” she gestured to the male. “Ask as many questions as you need, as you are very obviously not from here, but answer our questions first,” her smiled dropped to a more serious tone.

Ian nodded, it was the least he could do for them. “What kind of elf are you? Are you a cross? Dunmer?” she asked.

The elf narrowed his eyes, sitting down at one of the stone benches, “I have no idea what a ’Dunmer’ is. From where I am, all elves are just called elves,” he answered.

The two looked at eachother, showing pure concern in their eyes. Acolyte spoke up, “Where are you from then? Do you have a name?”

Ian didn’t know how to answer at first, “I-Iandore, but I just like to be called Ian,” he stuttered out. It’s been a while since he actually said his own name, he barely even spoke when he was with those plunderers. He was disturbed to realize he could have forgotten his own name.

“Ian? That’s a lovely name,” Danica smiled, earning one from him as well. It felt nice to talk to her.. “Where is it you’re from, Ian? If you don’t know what a dark elf is, you surely aren’t from Tamriel.”

He shook his head, “I-I’m from...”, he couldn’t find the proper words to spit out. He can’t just say ‘Hey! I’m from a world where dragons walk around on leashes, unicorns eat trash, and magic is a very uncommon thing!’

Then he remembered how he got here in the first place. “My staff!” he exclaimed, rising suddenly to his feet. Did they leave it at the fort?! Is it broken?!

“Whoa, whoa! Calm down! What staff?” Danica questioned in alarm.

“I got here using a wooden staff! Did you guys see it when you left the fort?”

Danica’s eyebrows rose, “We weren’t the ones that saved you. That would be the thane of Whiterun hold.”

This both confused and set Ian into a bit of a panic. Who is the thane of Whiterun hold? What is ’Whiterun’ to begin with? “Did he have a stick of some sort, like a branch with a few jutting edges?”

“I... believe I saw something like that, I did treat some of the wounds he endured after bringing you here,” Danica continued.

“Chances are, he will be back soon. But I wouldn’t hold your breath since he can get a bit..” she stumbled on her words lightly, looking for the right word. She shared a glance with her apprentice, who just shrugged his shoulders, “.. _‘distracted’_ sometimes..”

Ian sighed in defeat, folding his arms as he looked around at the marble floors and bright stained glass, “Then I’m stuck here..”


	8. Jorrvaskr

_“My sweet little Loki. I couldn’t of asked for a better son..”_

Aela swiftfully ripped the arrow out of the deer. It was a fairly big buck that the huntress could not pass up. Loki rubbed his eyes, and approached from his original hiding spot that Aela told him to stay, as to not alert the cervine. She knew way more of prey and how to hunt than the Dunmer hybrid, so he listened to her of course.

“You gonna share that meat when we get back to Whiterun?” he asked, kneeling down to inspect the arrow wound that pierced right above it’s left shoulder.

“Do you really think I’m going to hoard an entire buck in my room and not share?” Aela responded. The thought almost made her snicker. It wouldn’t be completely out of character for her to salt her favorite parts of the beast and keep a stash for when the winter months get harsh.

“I dunno, the incriminating amount of pelts and bloody tanning knives seem to speak for themselves..” Loki humorously stated as he shrugged his shoulders. He began to tie the buck’s hind legs up with a rope. He knew Aela would end up hauling the prey back to their horses that were waiting for them to return about a few hundred feet away.

“Most of the companions don’t even care for venison, the whelps. I’ll end up sparing a bunch to Anor-” Something caught Aela’s attention, the kind of attention that prompted her to switch into her beastial form. Russet fur erupted from her skin, and bones snapped and rebuilt themselves in seconds as the werewolf growled threateningly in the direction of the twig snapping.

“What’s got your-” the smell hit Loki like a truck. Dry, sickenly sweet, and only the stench that a vampire can possess. There was also the smell of rotting dog meat.. disgusting. _‘Shit,’_ he thought to himself, _‘Vampires and death hounds..’._ He drew his sword instantly, and balled up his fist in preparation of a fireball. It would be much more powerful, had he adorned his robes. Chances are, Tilma is still scrubbing out bandit blood and stitching in that tear.

Aela growled lowly, the fur on her back rising up into a ridge as the lycanthrope lowered her initial bipedal stance to a quadrupedal position. Her silver eyes dangerously concentrated on the thick undergrowth that was just screaming dangerous vibes.

In just the flick of his wrist, Loki flung the spell from his palm into the undergrowth. It exploded on impact, sending a few screaming vampires on fire and snarling death hounds out of their hiding spot and into the open. Aela charged a hound, raking her claws into it’s rotted skin and disemboweling it. Loki himself was narrowly evading the two clearly pissed off mistwalkers, casting himself a flame cloak spell to deter the blood suckers. Looking over his shoulder, Loki saw a glance of Aela finishing off the other death hound as she savagely ripped it’s head from it’s body and began her assault on it’s master.

He turned back to slice at a vampire attempting to gouge at him with her own sharp nails. Loki fired a firebolt at her while he worked to fight back against the other. He was tempted to turn too, to be honest. He deflected another one of her attacks when he remembered the staff on his back.

 _’How about we try out this staff to see what it does?’_ he thought to himself. He jumped back from the mistwalker, drew the staff, and pointed it at her. She froze, wondering why the elf unsheathed a branch on her. Loki tightened his grip on the wood, expecting his magicka to filter through it’s magical fibers and fuel whatever magic it creates. Instead, it did nothing, but the hum in the wood was still there. Loki looked at the staff in utter confusion.

“What are you doing, mortal?” The vampire hissed. “You have to be a special kind of stupid to think that a whittled piece of wood would make a magic staff. It doesn’t work like that.”

“Well, I know _this_ would work!” Loki exclaimed as he raised the staff in the air with both hands, and whacked the vampire across the face harshly. When he saw the other patting down the flames that have caught onto her, he immediately set to put her down as well. The Dunmer hybrid charged forward, but was cut off by Aela. She pounced onto the vampire and shredded her torso into ribbons with a flurry of slashes done by her claws. The mistwalker didn’t even have time to scream, her face simply contorted in frozen fear and pain.

For a time, there was silence, save for the heavy breathing from the werewolf. Loki was the first to speak. “Did.. did we get all of them?..” he asked, pausing for a brief time to breathe clearly again.

Aela shifted back to her human form, “I believe so. Are you always this winded after fighting?” she questioned the elf.

“No! No.. I didn’t realize I was using so much energy. Maybe they were also draining me, I wasn’t paying close attention..” he mumbled, “..If I had my robes, they would have been carrion far sooner..” Loki nudged one of the mauled hounds with his foot. He jumped back when he saw it’s leg twitch lightly. _‘It’s just postmortem spasm..’_ he thought to himself.

“You rely on the arcane arts far too much and not enough your own arm and bow,” Aela patted him on the shoulder, “Come on, it’s beginning to get dark out, and we don’t want to get caught up in anymore ambushes.”

“I’m coming to realize you have better guidance and advice than I..” Loki grabbed the rope and began to haul the buck along with him as they made their way to their horses. “..And I’m the harbinger!”

“Don’t think of it too much, pup. I’ve been a companion far longer than you.”

—————

Ian stared up at the big tree he came to upon leaving the temple of ‘Kynareth’. He was briefly lectured on the goddess of the winds and elements by the priests. Upon actually taking a step outside, he was pleasantly greeted with chilly weather, a tree bare and covered with snow, dubbed the Gildergreen by Danica Pure-Spring, and the setting sun. Strange, it did seem similar to the sunset in his dream. Is he-

_‘Don’t think about it!’_ he thought to himself. Just get the staff back, find a quiet and secluded enough place, and go home. Chances are, his mom is turning the entirety of New Mushroomton inside out in an effort to find him. What was the chant again? _‘Mora dur joor-something, something..’_

Danica told him of where to find this ‘Loki’ character. Apparently, he has more titles than ‘Thane of Whiterun Hold’. Harbinger of the mercenary group in this very city and ‘Arch-mage’ of an entire college dedicated to magic! And that isn’t even scratching the surface of what heroism he had done for the whole of Skyrim, the province that stupid bird got him stuck in.

To be quite honest, he’s a little nervous. He’s about to meet his very savior. He pictures a muscled, elven spell-blade that he could only imagine came straight out of Barley’s imagination, a character he made specifically for his campaigns. Danica and Acolyte left much to his imagination other than a quick, ‘he’s a powerful mage that can swallow the souls of man eating dragons.’

As Ian marveled at the structures around him, narrowly bumping into playing children and guards, and momentarily listening to a preacher as he passed, something about rising up or something. He came to the doors of ‘Jorrvaskr’. He took a deep breath in. Go in, ask his savior to give him back his staff, go home, and forget this whole nightmare happened.

_‘Forget you’re a murderer...’_

He opened the doors, and walked in. The warm fire keeping all different kinds of food and tankards of alcohol heated. Ian didn’t dare barge in further when he immediately heard the dialogue that reminds him of the bandits that argued not far from his cell.

“-Say that again to my face, Athis! I’ll skin you alive!” he heard a woman threaten.

“Just drop it. You both will break a table again..-”

“I would.. but I grow tired of you pulling out my hair like a dainty little noblewo-”

He heard the sound of a bottle being broken over someone’s head as violence ensued. When he looked past the pillar he hid himself behind, he saw a Nord woman and an elf fighting, with the elf having a head drenched in broken glass and alcohol. Most of the other warriors donning heavy armor watched with interest, mumbling some comments, while a couple just went about their business while shaking their heads.

The elf threw a right hook of his fist, while the woman blocked continuously and occasionally punched back. It didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Ian was about to take his leave when the doors opened behind him. He spun around, coming face to face with two figures. A Nord woman and an elven boy, around his age- maybe a little older. They stopped dead in their tracks. There was most likely chaos and disarray behind him, as he heard something wooden being broken, possibly a table or a chair.

“Ok! Enough, you two! Chairs aren’t feasible weapons!” the red haired woman hollered, moving past Ian and into the fray to break up the escalating fight.

The two elves simply held eye contact for a brief moment. The white haired elf smiled, “Good to see the damsel in distress had healed up quickly!” he laughed in a humorous tone, with a big, wide, pointy grin.

Ian blinked in confusion, “What?..” he questioned.

“Well, you were only really hurt on your arm when I found you, and Danica is the best at what she does!..” he rambled, scratching the back of his neck humbly.

Ian froze. Is _this_ Loki? A thin boy with a smooth face and goofy grin? He imagined someone taller than the elf in front of him. Much taller.. and scarier..

The elf held a gloved hand out for Ian to shake, “I’m Loki! Your name?” he asked. Yup. It’s him all right.

Ian snaps out of his thoughts and takes his hand, “M-my name’s Ian.” He was a little taken back by the elf’s friendliness.

Loki smiled broadly, “Good to formally meet you, Ian!”, he responded. “I see you came to Jorrvaskr, were you looking for me?”

Ian nodded swiftly, “Yeah! I was hoping you’d give me back my staff.”

“Oh! You mean this?” He drew the staff from it’s resting place on his back, possibly kept there by belts and holsters.

“That’s it!” Ian exclaimed. For once, since he was captured, he was glad to see the magical splinter again. He made a reach for it, but it was brought further from his grasp.

“Just one thing first. What is it exactly? I was inspecting it the whole way back from a hunt with a shield-sister of mine, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it’s purpose was.”

Ian held back the information for a second. Would it kill him to let him know? He did save him after all and has been polite so far.. “I-It’s a fragment of my dad’s staff. It was..” Ian struggled to find the right words without giving away too much information. “..‘Lost’ during a fight..”, he mumbled regretfully. He always wondered what had truly come of it. Is it even still in one piece?

Loki’s smile faded lightly, “Your father?”

An elderly woman approached the two passively while the brawling was still going on in the background, although it was beginning to become restrained, “I have your clean robes here, dear,” she said in a voice coated with wisdom. In her feeble arms were folded robes with a magical energy to them.

Staff still in hand, Loki took the clean clothes, “Thank you Tilma!” he beamed.

She bowed her head, smiling at Ian when she began to leave through the stairs descending down into the lower levels of the sturdy structure. He was about to reach for his staff again when Loki gave it back. Ian happily gripped the enchanted wood in his hands, “Wait, why is there blood on the tip here?..”

“Don’t worry about that!” Loki reassured him. His eyes sparkled, “How about we ditch this place and head down to the Bannered Mare? It is the Old Life Festival tonight, which means!- free mead!” he proposed.

Ian clutched his staff with uncertainty. What would a few hours chatting with him do to hurt him? It wouldn’t hurt too much, since he’s already going to be in trouble when he gets back. He looked at Loki’s face.. and it looks like it would mean a lot to the youth.

He sighed heavily, “Ok.”

Loki beamed, “Just give me a few minutes, I need to go change back into my robes!” he chimed eagerly and dashed down those stairs, where the elderly woman went.

Ian looked at the now calm situation between the brawling warriors. The Nord woman held back by the red haired woman that entered with Loki, and the alcohol drenched elf held back by another Nord, a man with an unruly beard. They were shouting curses and insults at each other.

“Eat horse shit Athis! If Aela wasn’t holding me back right now, I’d make you eat my fist!”

“Oh, I wish Torvar would let me go! Any damage I do to your ugly mug would certainly be an improvement!”

He settled down on a bench next to the doors, waiting for Loki to finally show. He hardly cared at this point, what mattered to him was that he had his staff back. He’ll be home by the end of the night. _Hopefully.._


	9. Tavern

The two elves strode out of Jorrvaskr, with Loki fixing the collar of his robes and recounting on some of his past experiences.

“-So I tell this guy, ‘I am a part of the Legion, and I know damn well you aren’t!’ The next thing I know, this Orc comes _slashing_ at me with his battle axe!” he chatted.

“This guy wanted to kill you on the spot?” Ian questioned. He wasn’t too surprised, but enough to comment on it.

Loki chuckled, “Well, yeah. There was also this one time where the Dark Brotherhood sent an assassin after me! He would have got me had he not tripped on a root and stumbled behind me.”

“Why do a lot of people want to kill you? I’ve heard you’re a really good person..”

The elf shrugged casually as they descended down a flight of steps into the marketplace, “Most are bandits who play their cards wrong when deciding to mug me. The assassin is probably the result of people who don’t want a teenager with _dragon blood_ running about and getting bored,” the elf said, “‘Too dangerous!’, they say!” Loki mocked. It looked as if it hardly bothered him, joking about people sending hitmen after him. It didn’t seem like anything bothered him.

Upon coming to the steps leading up into what looked like a small tavern, Ian marveled at how rustic and worn it truly looked. It was not dissimilar to The Manticore’s tavern when he and Barley went on their quest. As they strode up the steps, they passed a worn sign that held a helmeted figure riding a horse, with a poled banner etched to be held in his hands that read ‘Bannered Mare.’

Loki held the door open for Ian. He chuckled lightly, clutching the staff. “Thanks, Loki..” he said.

After walking into the warm and happy atmosphere, Loki caught up to him, “Of course! I’m treating you to a drink or two, aren’t I?”

Ian followed the mage past a fire pit and several patrons, some well dressed, a couple in little more than rags. “A drink?” he questioned. Ian’s expression was one of confusion. He’s not of legal age to drink, and it’s possible that neither is Loki. Will the hostess even permit him to drink?

Loki sat at the bar, motioning for him to take a seat next to him. “Of course! What kind of spirits fancy you? I like to switch between Ale and Honningbrew mead from time to time.” Ian sat next to him, propping his staff next to him against the wooden counter.

“Uhhh..”

A rather age worn Nord woman approached the counter, “What can I get for you and your friend, Loki?”

“Any Honningbrew left?” he asked.

“I think I have a few bottles left. How about you?” she asked Ian.

“Oh!- j-just a water, please,” he said nervously.

“You sure you wouldn’t rather want an ale? It’s free,” the Nord woman cocked a brow.

He nodded, “I’m sure, I-I’d rather not have anything else.”

“Suit yourself..” she shrugs. She leaves the two to themselves among the growing masses of customers.

Loki took a better study of Ian’s face. Ian noticed at the corner of his eye after a few moments of silence between the two.

“What race of elf are you? Are you a cross, like me?”

Ian shrugged, “Both of my parents were elves, not that it really matters, as I’m not even from here..”

This fetched Loki’s interest rather quickly, “Where then? As in ‘not from Skyrim’? Not even from Tamriel?” he questioned.

Ian didn’t know what to say exactly. “I.. uh..” he responded, dumbfounded.

The woman returned, holding a couple tankards in her hands, “Here you are,” she said, before returning to serving other patrons.

The blue haired elf recollected his thoughts. “I..It’s a bit of a long story..”

Loki raised the tankard to his lips, taking a taste of mead. “I’ve got nothing much else to do..” he mumbled.

Ian sighed, taking a sip of his own drink. “So.. I come from a place that is near opposite of here. We used to have magic and adventurers and the like.. but magic slowly died out a couple centuries ago..” he started.

At this time, a bard began to play a joyful tune through a lute. It lightened the mood and made him a tad more relaxed.

Loki took another drink, “..I would understand why magic eventually became an abandoned art. I bet the Nords from where you live are just as ‘accepting’ towards magic as many here are..” he mumbled bitterly.

Ian chuckled a bit nervously, “We.. don’t have Nords where we live..-”

Loki choked on his drink, coughing. He quickly grabs a stray rag from the counter to wipe his mouth and chin.“No Nords?- What?! What about other human races? No Redguards, Imperials, or Bretons either?”

“I don’t even know what those are, so no..?”

The cross hummed. He scooted himself and Ian around to face the living area filled with all sorts of characters.

“You see that dark skinned beggar in rags over there?” Loki pointed lightly.

Ian spotted a rather intoxicated beggar stumbling over his own feet, mumbling incoherently, with wet parts of his wearable rags due to a mass amount of liquor spilling from his maw and tankard. “Yeah? Is he ok?”

Loki chuckled, “Yeah, he’s fine. That’s Brenuin, he’s a Redguard. You can tell fairly easily because of his skin tone and facial features.” He then motioned to a man on the shorter side, casually drinking and joking with a small group. “That guy over there. His name’s Belethor, and he’s a Breton.”

“What’s your point? That you possibly know everyone’s name in this city?” Ian asked, cocking a brow.

Loki chortled lightly, “I’m telling you this because of how there are different human races other than just Nords. The great majority of the people in Skyrim are Nords, since this is their ‘mainland’.”

Ian groaned, taking a drink. “That’s more complicated than it should be... back from where I’m from, there’s an _easy_ way to differentiate people. People with horse bodies and upper halves somewhat similar to a Nord is a Centaur. Tiny people with wings are Pixies. People with long ears are Elves..”

The mage leaned back on the counter, “Say.. how’d you get here? I’d take that you’re not a real adventurous kind of person.”

“Oh.. I found this really big book in a shop. I attempted to cast this spell that looked easier than it really was. Apparently, it’s just my luck that a raven bumped into my window while I was casting it..”, he stopped to take a sip of his water, “..And you need absolute undivided attention to make the spell work. I got sucked in.. a-and ‘enslaved’ by bandits..” he stammered. Ian purposefully left out the butchering of that one Nord. No matter what, that always came back to him and he hates it.

Loki wasn’t paying attention to his facial features, instead he was focused on finishing what was left of his tankard before requesting another drink. “What’d you do to cast it?”

“I said some kind of chant. What was it.. Magic shar..-” Ian froze. He had completely forgotten what to say in order to cast the spell. He forgot how to open the portal that takes him home.

Loki lowered the tankard, licking his lips. He noticed the bluenette was stiff in shock, shaking, and sweating. “What’s wrong?”

“I.. I forgot the chant..”

Loki cocked an eyebrow. “How do you forget the workings of a world traveling portal?” he asked.

A thousand thoughts were swimming in Ian’s head. _What the hell was the chant_!!? Morrow magic dal nirn?! Moka chir sha narnial?! Nora khan magic mon!!? Among the hundreds of different chants that could send him home, one spoke louder than the others. The same one that breathes down his neck in those nightmares.

_‘You can’t go home..’_

He teared up instantly, a sob arose. Hardly anyone noticed, their attention grabbed by two men arm wrestling over some bet.

The only one who noticed the cry was Loki, who had been listening to Ian the whole time. Immediately, he was seeing to the elf.

“Is it something I said?! I’m really sorry if it was!” he exclaimed in alarm.

Face buried in hands, he shook his head, “I can’t go home- I-I forgot how to properly cast the spell!” he cried. His nails dug through his curls and into his scalp. How could he be so stupid and careless?

Not wanting to have negative attention drawn to the male currently having a mental breakdown and the other having a panic attack _over the other male_ , Loki helped Ian up from his seat and outside where he can vent without catching others’ attention. The two sat at a small ledge at the back of the inn.

At this point, Ian was sobbing uncontrollably, his breakdown would have definitely drawn attention had he not been ushered out of the inn. He won’t likely see his family or friends again, all because he can’t remember a sentence or two. Granted, it was a sentence of complete foreign language with all sorts of weird pronouncing. But still, one would think someone would remember something as crucial as a world traveling portal spell..

Loki was torn on what to do exactly. He’s dealt with crying children before, and it’s easy to distract them or make amends through treats, flowers, or small butterflies. But those are children who have scraped a knee or were victims of childish bullying. It is much more difficult to deal with teenagers such as himself who have just possibly lost their family, their whole life!

_...Lost family..-!_

Something clicked in the elf’s mind! And it only took him thirty seconds! “ _Please-_ look at me, Ian..” he said in a gentle voice he would reserve for more sensitive people.

Ian looked at Loki with very teary and bloodshot eyes, still sniffling. Tears were streaming down from his gorgeous brown eyes, “I-I can understand how you feel..” he consoled. His heart began to weigh a bit as he continued, “I’ve lost many friends and family throughout the years. It sucks, especially if you feel that it’s your fault..-”

“This is my fault! I sh-should have never gotten that book!-”

He was enveloped by Loki’s arms, capturing him in a hug. “-Then what are you going to do about it? Just sit around and mope?” he asserted.

He released Ian from the embrace, but still held his arms firmly in his hands. Loki held a serious gaze with the older male, “Life sucks ass, especially here in Skyrim! I realized that not a _week_ after I came here!”

Ian was quiet, permitting Loki to continue, “But after all that, after every obstacle that knocks me down a notch, I ask myself, ‘What now?’”

There was a moment of silence between the two. If it weren’t for drunken cheering and brawling in the inn, and the crickets putting in their two septims on the two’s conversation, it would be dead silent. Loki released Ian’s arms, stood up, and offered a hand to him. “Want to take a walk with me? I’ll go get your staff.”


	10. Vampire

As the two elves strode through the plains district of Whiterun, there was silence between the two. Nothing has been said in the past ten minutes. Just them casually walking side by side, with Ian staring at the ground as he followed Loki by his side.

The silence was broken when they neared the gates of the city, lazily guarded by watchmen. Loki gently tapped Ian’s shoulder, “So.. what’s your plan?”

Ian leaned on his staff, sighing. “I’ve been thinking about it. Maybe I’ll help Danica and Acolyte at the temple as a small job. Until I can remember those words, at least..”

Loki fidgeted with his sleeve. “Y’know, you could travel with me if you’d like. There’s so much more beyond the city, and once you get past all of the monsters and bandits, Skyrim is actually quite beautiful.”

“No,” Ian declined. “I don’t want to be a burden to you. Besides, I don’t think I will be ready to leave Whiterun for a while..” he ran his thumb along the edges of his staff’s edge, “..Not after what happened with those bandits..”

Loki shook his head, “I don’t think you’d be a burden to me, Ian. All you truly need is the knowledge for your craft, and you could rival even the strongest battlemage!” he encourages, “Which would be me possibly,” he gestured to himself with a matter-of-fact tone. Ian smiled softly. “Even in the city walls, there are some monsters that find a way through the cracks, not to mention the dragons.. You won’t be much safer here than out there with me,” he paused for a second, recollecting his thoughts. “Actually no, you would be much safer here than with me..”

Ian chuckled. He was about to comment when he and Loki spotted a crowd formed near the gates. They approached, with the blue elf clutching onto the wooden staff nervously. The hushed dialogue between townsfolk had given small insight on the situation.

“Oh gods... that poor boy..”

“He looks like Safinna’s son. What is she going to do once she sees him?”

“Damn bloodsuckers! He was but a child.”

The guardsmen were already on the incident, “Everyone! Back to your homes! We have this under control!” Through the cracks of the reluctantly leaving crowd, Loki saw a hooded figure slowly reverting to dust on the ground and a civilian laying in a pool of their own blood. A child, with empty eyes and a mouth wide agape. His neck was ripped open to get at his life force. Before Ian could see what was there, Loki dragged the wizard away from the scene. No one should see that..

“What did you see, Loki?” Ian asked. He couldn’t look back with the younger, but much stronger elf pulling him back from where they came.

“...”

“Was something-” he was cut off, hearing a woman wailing incoherently far behind him. He didn’t dare look now. Instead, he didn’t resist against the Dunmer’s grip, and followed him back to Jorrvaskr. Once they got to the steps, Loki sighed and sat down on one of the steps.

“..Ok. There was a vampire attack back there..” Loki murmured.

“A vampire? I’ve only heard about those in fiction. They’re real?”

“Yep, sadly..” Loki leaned against the wooden wall. “They’re getting bolder, attacking in the streets. Maybe there’s a hidden lair somewhere, and I just have to look..-”

“Don’t go hunting after them! They could kill you!” the older male exclaimed.

Loki softly guffawed, “Hah, I can easily burn them to a husk. Watch.”

Loki raised his dominant hand. A fire flickered in his palm, startling Ian. “Y-you can control fire with your hands?” he inquired.

“And Ice..” the fire was replaced with a small ice crystal, levitating in his hand.

Ian raised his hand slightly, as if he wanted to touch it, but recoiled rather quickly. “Doesn’t that hurt? Or at least feel uncomfortable? Even my own spells can sometimes backfire on me.”

The mage shook his head, he gently took Ian’s hand and ignited the flame. It was hot, but it didn’t hurt. It was as if he reached his hand into a fireplace’s warm ashes.

Loki grinned at the blue elf’s amazement, “That’s arcane fire for you. It obeys without question, but is tricky to master. I used to burn myself a lot when I was less experienced.”

Ian withdrew his hand, inspecting his palm, “Am I capable of this kind of magic?”

“Well, yeah. Any race is able to conjure magic, even the most brutish of Orcs. We all are born with the bare minimal for magic casting, even if some never use it in their lives.”

The blue elf just stared at his hand. He.. likes having his staff, but from less to more recent events, he’s begun to like it less and _less_. Every time he’s struck down another living being before their time, his disposition towards the splinter is chipped away.

“I’m staying here for the night. We could meet up at the market tomorrow morning for breakfast and I could teach you basic healing spells,” Loki said.

Ian had stopped inspecting his hand, smiling at the mage, “O-of course! I’ll be at the Temple of Kynareth!”

Loki opened the door to Jorrvaskr. It was loud inside, with many drunkenly singing. Before he left the wizard in the cold night of Morning Star, he waved. The door shut loudly, leaving Iandore Lightfoot alone, save for the crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little short, but I’m making them as chunks of the plot and events separate to another. If the next is just as short, I may end up fusing them.


	11. Outset

_Ian was amongst a field of grass and the occasional flower. Mountains were in the very far distance, but if he walked for hours he could reach them. This didn’t feel like a nightmare. Was it? There is no possible way something could ambush him, right? The elf shook his head. No. He looked around more, unsure of where to go._

_“Ian?..”_

_That voice. He spun around, spotting his brother in shock and disbelief._

_“Barley?...” Ian’s eyes welled up instantly. How long has it been since he’s heard or seen him. The goof that taught him how to ride a bike and to swim. The one who walked him to school on the very first day of kindergarten. The one who first noticed he was bullied in middle school. The first one who accepted his sexuality with open arms.._

_The bulky elf didn’t shift, in fact, he took a step back from Ian when he stepped forward._

_“Barley! It’s me! Aren’t you happy to see me?” he inquired. “Where’s mom? Blazey? Colt? How come you’re the only one here?- Not that I’m unhappy to see you!-”_

_“I have a better question. Why did you leave us?”_

_“W-what?”_

_“Is it something we did? Were you not happy with the life you had? We’re you embarrassed of us, so you ran away using magic?”_

_Stunned would be the defining feature of Ian’s face. Did.. Barley accuse him of running away? He knew Ian wouldn’t do that, not when things were turning around for him!_

_“I would never-”_

_The sound of cawing shook Ian of what he was saying. The sun was once again blacked out, but it wasn’t them flying. A raven’s limp body hit Ian at the back of his shoulder. They were falling from the sky like rain, pelting the young elf and leaving behind a splatter of blood where they hit him. He sheltered his head, looking up to see Barley was nowhere to be found._

_“B-Barley! Please, I didn’t run away!” he cried out at nothing. The raven corpses began rolling behind him, pushing against eachother to form a big, black figure. He looked up in horror as the birds melted and reformed like putty. The figure, which looked like a giant dragon in shape, rose to it’s hunches. The ravens were still raining from the dark sky._

_It opened it’s bright violet orbs, glaring down at the much smaller being below it. It opened it’s maw, black flesh and feathers tearing from it’s cheeks to snarl at the elf._

_All Ian could do was scream in horror as it lunged at him._

—————

The morning was bright, cold, and gorgeous. It was even busier than yesterday, with dogs running about, chasing their children masters playfully while they hurled snowballs at each other in the Plains District. While Loki was caught up with buying a couple sweetrolls for breakfast, Ian was leaning against the wall of a shop. He was rather tired, and was nodding off to the gentle atmosphere that was the plains district. Was it the nightmare he had the night before? He hardly remembers anything past the dragon monster, but that can be a good thing. It’s about time his memory blocks out his night terrors.

He was tapped awake by Loki, who was holding up a sweetroll for him. “Carlotta just baked them this morning! Try it, it’s really good!” he chimed, taking a bite of the sweet pastry.

The wizard rubbed his eyes, taking the sweet roll, he followed the Dunmer as they casually strolled about. Ian took a bite, and immediately remembered how much he loved sweets. It’s been far too long since he’s had something sweet and reminiscent of home.

“I really needed this, thanks..”

Loki chuckled at the other’s bliss, “My grandmother used to make really wacky sweet rolls using wild berries she found in Cyrodiil’s wilds. Somehow, she always managed to make them taste good.”

Halfway finished with the pastry, Ian grinned, “So where are we going to practice spells?” he asked.

“Probably out in the plains. But before anything, I need to know how powerful your magicka is.”

“How do you know whether I have strong ‘Magicka’ or not?” Ian asked. Is it as simple as looking at someone? Or is it more complicated than that, like a medical diagnosis?

Loki shoved the last of the treat into his mouth and sat at a bench, motioning for the blue elf to sit next to him. Ian did just that, he took a seat next to him. He took a bite of his sweetroll.

Loki took Ian’s hand and flipped it over to see his wrist. He ran his thumb across the veins underneath the older elf’s skin. He hummed, as if he just discovered something he didn’t truly expect. “You do indeed have a powerful magicka, you just don’t use it..” he mumbled, “You can tell by feeling someone’s pulse or veins. Of course, you need to know what your feeling for. I know of course because I studied this at the College of Winterhold.”

“What’s the College of Winterhold? I’ve heard mentions of it here and there, and you’re apparently well known there..? But I don’t know what it really is..” Ian softly said. His cheeks tinted a soft pink shyly.

“The College of Winterhold is a place where promising mages and wizards like you and I can study magic. It includes many schools of magic, but is shunned by many for an incident that incriminated the college a long time ago.” Loki explained as his thumb searched further to his elbow.

“What was this incident that made the college so hated?”

“Agh..- some storm that came from the Sea of Ghosts left the city of Winterhold in ruins, the only structure left untouched being the college. It’s called ‘The Great Collapse’.”

“Doesn’t sound so _great_ to me..”

That made Loki laugh wholeheartedly. He stood up, with Ian following. “Let’s get down to the plains. We’ll start with a simple healing spell.”

As they walked closer to the gates, Ian slowly began to feel uneasy from the events of the night before. Did they clean up the blood? Is there even going to be a crime scene?

They didn’t pass the blacksmith before an elven creature approached. He was bulky, green, and troll-like. Sharp canines the size of Ian’s thumb jutted out of his underbite, his face was rough and worn down by the elements, and his yellowing green eyes looked tired, as if he hasn’t slept right in days.

“You there. The Dawnguard is looking for anyone willing to fight against the growing vampire menace. What do you say?” he said. Ian kept quiet while Loki did the talking, who was not even bothered by the man. Is that another race of Tamriel?

“There’s a whole faction dedicated to pushing back vampires? Where do I sign up?” Loki questioned.

The bulky elf chuckled, “Isran's going to like you. Go talk to him at Fort Dawnguard, southeast of Riften. He'll decide if you're Dawnguard material.”

He left the two to look for others. Ian looked at Loki, “You’re going to leave?”

“Why not? I was planning on hunting them down anyways, why not with an entire group?”

Ian was rather quiet for a few moments while they turned back, no doubt to stock up on supplies, “I want to come with you!” he announced.

Loki turned, a little surprised, “I thought you wanted to help Danica Pure-Spring?”

“I.. I thought of it earlier this morning. I thought of what happened with that vampire, and I realized I didn’t want to be caged here. I want to see the rest of this world I’m stuck in,” Ian said with the most confidence Loki had witnessed since he’s met him. “I _want_ to travel with you, Loki.”

The Dunmer nodded, smiling determinedly. He held out his hand for Ian to shake, “You sure? You will have to endure a lot of nonsense and dangerous situations, and you will get hurt a _lot_.”

He nodded, shaking his gloved hand, “I’m willing to take anything thrown my way!” he beamed.

The mage eyed Ian’s worn robes he was given by Danica, “Then you’re going to need proper apparel!”


	12. Steed

Ian and Loki strolled through the sleeping quarters of Jorrvaskr. The younger was eating an apple he had acquired on the way down. They walked into a room that seemed rather big, with various animal pelts strewn about as trophies. Loki bit onto the red fruit and held it in his maw as he opened a chest at the foot of the bed.

Ian looked around with slight uncertainty while Loki fumbled around for something he had withheld from telling Ian. He said the young wizard needed ‘proper apparel’, so he could be getting him armor. Would it be chainmail? Iron armor? He didn’t know what materials the locals used. He doesn’t even know how economically developed Skyrim is in order to forge armor!

Loki made a muffled ‘Ah-ha!’, through the apple and pulled out a folded set of clothes. He set the pome fruit on a nightstand and unfolded the clothes. He shifted over to Ian and compared the robes’ size to the elven boy.

“What are those?” Ian asked. 

Loki showed the clothes to Ian, “They’re mage robes!”

The robes were blueish in color, albeit they were dull and worn. They certainly weren’t new, but neither were the orangeish robes he currently wore.

“They used to be mine, two.. three years ago, when I first came to Skyrim. They were a little too big for me, but they seem to fit you fine!”

“Eww.. how long has it been since they were washed?”

“I think I scrubbed them thoroughly before tucking them away!” Loki said, “Here. Change out of those robes. These also have a hood with them and are enchanted!”

Loki gave the set of clothes to the wizard and left him alone in his room. He stripped out of his old garments, which were kind of itchy to begin with, and swapped them with the robes Loki gave him.

The new robes and hood he donned were comforting and warm, oddly enough. Maybe it was the enchantment that the Dunmer mentioned. It took a while, having to put on the undershirt, then the actual robes, then fastening the belt and buckle securely. He flipped over the hood of the robes, immediately feeling a strong sense of warmth.

When Ian had exited the room, Loki whistled. The blue elf’s face flushed. “Perfect fit!” he chimed, standing up while taking another bite of the apple. Now, it was little more than a fat core.

“Now all you need is a horse. I’ve counted my septims while you were in there. I have more than enough to afford another horse,” he said.

They walked back up the stairs to the ground level of Jorrvaskr, where yet another argument began to stir with the same people the night before. “What’s a horse?” Ian asked.

“I-” Loki stopped. “Well.. they’re these big animals with four hooves, long faces, and a big mane. They make a ‘neigh’ sound, and are great for long distance traveling. You’ll see when you get to the stables.”

“Oh, alright,” Ian stuffed his hands into the pockets of the robes. 

“We could save up for something else if you want to ride with _me_ -”

“ ** _No,_** no! That’s alright, Loki!” he flusteredly exclaimed as they left the structure.

Loki snickered, “Ok, ok. Take this pouch of gold and go down the gates, and into the stables. Go to the stable master and ask for a horse. Most likely, he will already have one saddled up,” the hybrid instructed. They had descended the stairs into the market, “I’ll meet you down there in thirty to forty five minutes.”

Ian took the pouch carefully. It was rather big.. and heavy. He struggled to hold it with one hand, yet, Loki held it fine, “Y-you’re not coming down with me?”

“I’m going to stock up on supplies. We could be on the road to Riften for a day or two if the divine Kynareth doesn’t want to make our lives hard.”

Before Ian could get far, Loki grabbed his shoulder, “Wait!” he exclaimed. The elf turned, cocking an eyebrow quizzically. “Here. Something to snack on until I get down there,” he gave him an apple.

“Thanks,” he breathed, departing from his friend. He walked to the front of the closed gate. “Uh..” he didn’t know what to do. He looked up at one of the large posts, with guards chatting near the lever to opening the gate. Ian cleared his voice, “H-hey!”

The guards stopped their chatting and looked at him, “Do you need anything, elf?” One asked.

“Y-yeah! Could you please open the gate so I can go down to the stables?”

The three guards shared looks with each other. The first one simply shrugged and went to open the gates. The large, wooden gates slowly stretched open, letting him pass. “Thank you!” He called up to them, and as he walked past the gates, they went back to whatever they were talking about.

As he strolled to the stables, he gawked at the gorgeous scenery around him. Tall, striking mountains, blue flowers poking out of the snow gathered everywhere. Drooping icicles gathered at the edges of the stable, where what seemed to be a small, white, hornless unicorn was reaching up to lick at the frozen water. He spotted a Nord leaning against the frame of the stables. He walked up to the stable master.

The man looked him up and down, “Hey, weren’t you the elf that the thane came in carrying,” he asked.

He nodded, “Y-yeah! Loki saved me from bandits.”

The man ‘humphed’, “And telling from those robes, you’re either his new companion, or you’re on you’re way to the college. Either way, I reckon you’ll want a warhorse,” he concluded.

“A ‘Warhor’- Oh! Yup! I have the gold and everything-”

He waved Ian off, “No need. I owe Loki a favor for chasing away bandits. Damn savages were trying to steal my horses,” he said, “You can have the dark brown mare saddled up. Her name’s Queen Alfsigr, or Allie for short.”

Ian looked to the side, seeing the horse the man was talking about. A big, sturdy mare that would have tricked Ian’s eyes into believing she was black had the man not tell him she was actually a deep brown color.

He walked over to her, and was initially anxious to touch her. If horses in Skyrim were anything like those mange infested Unicorns that littered his front yard with trash, he would want nothing to do with touching her. The man chuckled, opening the stall and leading her out, “Alfsigr’s a stubborn girl, but she’s friendly. As long as you’re good to her, she’ll carry you all the way to Black Marsh, I bet.”

The elf hummed. He raised his hand, palm forward, to her snout, and patted it gently. She snorted, leaning into his touch. “Hi.. I’m Ian,” he said gently. The stable master had urgently left to go settle down two other horses nipping at each other.

He remembered the apple that Loki had given him. He sat down on a nearby rock, placed his staff next to him, and took a bite of the sweet morsel. Alfsigr had clopped over by his side, nudging his face queryingly.

Ian smiled, “Hey!” He wiped his cheek, taking another bite out of his apple. When she didn’t stop, he caught onto the fact she wanted his apple.

He couldn’t resist her prodding for long. It wouldn’t be the end of the world to let her have it. Besides, he was eating it in the first place out of boredom. He lifted the apple up to the dark haired mare, sighing. She took it immediately and chomped down on the treat.

“I can already tell I’ll spoil you like I did with Blazey..” he said rather quietly. His heart began to sink a little. He missed her a lot. If he ever made it back home, he’ll most likely be mauled by the wyrm-drake cross out of love.

He grabbed a nearby stick sitting in the dirt beside him and drew in the soft soil and snow at his feet. At first, his mom, then Barley, Colt, Blazey, and finally, him right next to them. They were little more than stick figures, of course. He was never an artist, but enjoyed doodling if he had nothing else save for a pen and the notepad he carried around with him. That thing had so much in it, lists, doodles, tic-tac-toe games, reminders.. he would be lying if he said he wasn’t sad when it was burnt away with his watch and clothes.

Ian scoffed softly at himself. Here he was, getting sentimental over a notepad. No, it was deeper than that. He looked down at the doodles of him and his family, if only he didn’t play with that stupid book. He kicked dirt over doodle-Ian, leaving his family alone. He pulled down the hood, letting the morning breeze play with his blue locks. 

Ian closed his eyes for a short time, when he opened them, a pair of boots stood in front of his dirt drawings. He looked up. He didn’t even need to see the rest of face silhouetted by the sun to know it’s Loki. He would know that shoulder-length, white hair from anywhere.

“Cute drawings, your family?” the Dunmer asked, kneeling down to get a better look, he placed a small sack on the ground next to him.

Ian nodded, “Yeah.. my mom, brother, step-dad, and dragon,” he mumbled.

“A pet dragon? You truly are from a different universe then..” Loki jokingly said.

He rose to give the dark colored horse a gentle pat on the neck, “A fine horse you have now. Did you give the stable master the gold?”

“He didn’t want it. He said he owed you a favor for chasing off bandits from the stables,” the blue elf said, rising from the rock. Ian gave the money back to Loki. He looked down at the doodles and walked over them, careful to not step onto the memory of his family.

“Huh. To be honest, I forgot about that whole thing-” Loki suddenly remembered something. “Oh! I got some extra things for you!” he pulled out a small satchel, a few books, and a knife.

He placed each side by side. “An alchemist’s satchel, some novice level spell-books, and a steel dagger straight from the Skyforge!”

Ian picked up one of the books. A dirty brown cover with a flaming hand emblazoned on the center. He looked at the other ones, each different from the one he was holding. “I got one destruction book, one restoration, and one alteration! I would have gotten more, but I knew I would get carried away and blow off too much money,” he said sheepishly.

He noticed Ian was still holding onto the splinter, “You know you don’t have to carry it around like that, watch.” He took the staff, walked behind the wizard, and snugly in a holster of some kind.

“What? I had that?” Ian questioned, looking over his shoulder to further clarify that there were several holsters for weapons.

Loki hummed, and fastened the satchel around his shoulder to hips. “You have several pockets in your clothes for stuff, and your knife holster is right at your hip,” Loki pointed out. He handed the blade and books to Ian, and chuckled a little when he struggled to place the weapon in at first, but stifled his giggles when the older elf slid it in quickly and glared at the Dunmer.

“So, where are we heading?” Ian asked.

Loki hummed, he pulled a rolled up map out of his robes and opened it beside Ian, “Riften. We’ll take the road through Riverwood and into Helgen, then take the road south along Treva River,” he directed. He trailed his index finger along the black lines that lead to the city. “It would be at least a full day of traveling. Maybe more if we run into trouble, but we should be good if we went around Helgen..”

“What’s wrong with Helgen?” Ian asked. Is it full of weirdos? People with only a few teeth, webbed feet, and eat flesh? Do they sacrifice goats in some cultish manner?-

“It’s in ruin after a dragon attack a few years ago. Bandits inhabit it now. I don’t want to risk us or the horses getting hurt, so we may just go around.”

Ah. That makes sense.

Loki rolled up the map, “I’ll go get my horse. We may end up having to take a break, with the sun almost hitting the sky’s peak,” he informed, pointing to the sun while he approached the stables.

Soon enough, he returned with another mare. A white dapple pattern along her coat. “Skadi’s been anxious to meet you,” he chimed, scratching behind her ear. “This is Ian. He’ll be traveling along with us now,” he told the mare. She chuffed, shaking her head casually.

He jumped up onto her saddle. Ian was soon to do the same, then he realized how high up Alfsigr’s saddle is.

Loki chuckled, getting down, “Need help? I take it that you’ve never mounted a horse before.”

Ian sighed looking over at him, “Please..”

The mage smiled, “Ok, ok. Place your foot closer to me on the stirrup..”

Ian shakily placed his foot on the stirrup, keeping himself steady by holding onto the Allie’s reigns.

“And.. _up_ you go!” Loki said, hoisting up Ian a little bit as he pulled himself onto the saddle. “You’re a natural! I fell off the first few times I got on a horse!”

Ian chuckled, “Thanks, Loki. Now, how do I get her to move?”

The younger elf remounted his horse, “Just squeeze her sides gently with your legs. She’ll know what it means. To get her to steer, just pull on the reigns lightly. Not too hard or she’ll toss you off,” the mage instructed, “I learnt the hard way!” he ruffled the mare’s dark mane.

“Ok. Follow you?” Ian asked. It was a dumb question, and he knew it, but Loki responded nonetheless.

“Of course! Watch me control Skadi as we go to Riverwood.”

Ian nodded. It was fairly easy to get Allie to move once he knew how. He looked back at the rock he sat at, and the little drawings of his family. He then looked forward as he caught up with Loki. Until he finds out how to return to Yore, Skyrim might be his new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, I finally begin the story eleven-twelve chapters in. This “book” will be SO. DAMN. LONG. _My guys!_


	13. The Mage Stone

By the time the sun met the horizon, the two elves had traversed through Riverwood, albeit rather quickly. Had they stayed longer, it would have been dark. Ian was rather intrigued by the creatures that replaced his world’s own. Furry mammals with brown fur called dogs replaced dragons, and the gryphons were outplaced by raptor-like birds named chick-ens.

The sudden stop in front of Ian alerted him. “What is it?” he asked while attempting to look over his companion.

“The sun is beginning to set, so we should stop here for the night. Better for us, better for the horses,” Loki responded as he hopped down from Skadi.

Ian slowly made his way down from his own steed, careful to not get his foot tangled in the stirrup as his feet see to the ground once again.

The nature around the two were gorgeous. Antlerless jackalopes ambled around in the snowy forest in search of food while salmon lept up against the river’s currents. But what truly caught Ian’s attention was where they were standing. Not far ahead were three stones positioned of equilateral distance, creating a triangle shape. Loki stepped forward to brush away at the snow covering a carving of one of the stones.

“These are the Guardian Stones. If you pick one’s blessing, you will be able to hone your skills faster,” he took a step back to allow Ian to see all three. “Go on, pick one.”

Ian looked at each. One was a hooded figure, another is a wizard, and the last being an armored man. Although each carving was unique, they all had tiny dents in them that were similar to constellations.

“Which one do you recommend?” Ian asked the hybrid.

“I’m certain you are on the path of magic and wisdom, so the center stone would be your best bet.”

Ian brushed his hand against the smooth, weather carved stone. It beamed with a mystical energy he never felt before. It was when he brushed over the carving that the mage stone began to glow. The dots connecting the stone glowed brightly as a beam of light shot into the sky. Ian jumped back, startled, “I-Is it supposed to do that?!”

“Yeah! You’re good!” Loki reassured as he calmed Alfsigr down.

He looked at his hand, seeing his veins glow the same bright blue as the stone. The light connecting the stone to the sky died down, dissipating in the air, as did the light in his veins.

Ian rubbed his wrist, feeling a certain energy course through his body. The feeling was so powerful, he felt like he was going to fall over from how numb his limbs were.

He stumbled back over to Loki, leaning on Alfsigr to ease his worry of stumbling over. Loki chuckled, “That feeling will wear off in a little bit. Until then, help me gather some firewood, then I can start teaching you those spells!”

Ian nodded. “What about the horses?”

“They wouldn’t wander off far. Chances are, they will just get a drink by the river,” he responded, picking up stray branches. “I trust that Skadi won’t go far..” he mumbled.

Ian helped to gather an arms full of wood. Loki arranged the branches with the teepee method. 

Loki leaned back, smiling, “Get out those spell books, I’ll first teach the flames spell.”

The blue elf pulled out the three books from his robes, setting them down in front of him. Loki picked up the one with the flaming hand, “This is a simple flame spell, read the book,” he instructed.

Ian stared down at the closed tome, “Now?”

Loki nodded. He shrugged and opened the book to read the first page, but was blinded by a bright light emanating from the book. Ian cried out in pain. He can’t see!

“ _What the hell was that!?_ ” he snarls in the direction he imagined Loki would be in. He continuously rubbed his damaged eyes.

“That’s how spell tomes work! To save time, wizards enchant the books with a rapid knowledge flow straight to your brain. Isn’t that amazing?”

Ian glared at Loki through his practically scorched eyes. “ _No_ , that is not _‘amazing’_!”

“The first time reading them hurts a little, and you shouldn’t read more than a couple at a time, but you get used to the sudden knowledge.”

Ian blinked his eyes, feeling his vision return. But there was a single word branded at the back of his head: _Flames_.

“Can you see now?” the Dunmer asked.

Ian looked around, “Y-yeah, but my eyes are still super sensitive..”. He looked down, spotting a pile of dust in his lap. “What the..?”

Loki chuckled, “I also forgot to mention that the books themselves are destroyed in the learning process,” he said while Ian stood up to brush off the mass amounts of dust in disgust.

“Ok, now what do I do? I read the book, almost went blind, so now what?”

“Think of your hands as an inferno, a dragon’s gaping maw. You now can hold a figment of the sun in your hands. Call upon your mind to deliver these very flickers of flames to your fingertips,” Loki instructed.

Ian sighed, “So.. just think of the word and what it does-” a sudden flame arose in his palms. “Gah!!”, Ian cried out, startled. He waved his hand frantically in the air to rid himself of the foreign substance. The flames disappeared from his hand as soon as they appeared.

“Careful! If you don’t remember to tame your own strength, it will rebel against you and burn you. See?” the mage stripped off one of his gloves, revealing a discolored patch of flesh on his wrist.

Ian shuddered, “How old is that?”

Loki shrugged his shoulders, “A good four-five year old scar. While I still lived in Cyrodiil with my mother, she strived to teach me some fire magic. I ended up burning myself pretty bad when I wouldn’t listen to her warnings,” he rambled, “She told me hundreds of times, ‘Don’t play with the fire, you’ll get yourself burned,’ but I didn’t listen to her..”

He flexed his palm as he put his gauntlet back on, chuckling, “It hurt so much! I couldn’t use my hand for months,” he said.

Loki then shook his head, “Try summoning it in your hands again. Remember to not be afraid, as arcane fire is much different from actual fire.”

Ian let out an anxious breath, refocusing his will into his hands. Just like that, a flame awoke in his palms, dancing about as he looked over to Loki with pride, “I did it!”

The younger elf clapped, “That was the first part. Now, you have to shoot it forward at the campfire.”

The blue elf looked at the still unlit campfire. He nodded, “How do I do that?”

“Flex your palm outwards, like your outstretching your hand to catch something.”

He flexed his palm outwards, focusing on the branches. A spiral of flames erupted from his pale hands, shooting forward to ignite the wood.

Ian jumped up to celebrate, fist pumping the air, “I lit the fire!” Loki rose up with him to further celebrate. The two teenagers laughed and cheered, it was a good thing no one else was living nearby, or they would have been witness to two strange mages celebrating over a fire.

Truly a funny sight to see, but to Ian, it meant the world to him to learn this.

———

Ian didn’t realize how tired he was until he and his blanchette friend had settled down onto the cold ground. The sun had set at this point, replacing the skies with millions of stars and the moons. He laid on the grass, next to the campfire as he watched the gorgeous night sky above him. He was head to head with Loki as they stargazed.

“Are all nights like this?” he questioned as the blue and green aurora danced about in the sky.

“Sadly, no. Only on some nights do the auroras appear naturally,” the younger responded, following a yawn shortly afterwards.

The moons caught Ian’s attention, they stood out from the rest of the sky in all their glory, “What are the moons’ names?” he chuckled softly, “Sorry to be asking so many questions..” he apologized.

His apology was responded with a scoff from Loki, “You should see how annoying _I_ get when I ask questions..” he mumbled. “The bigger moon is named Masser, with the smaller being Secunda. By ancient history’s tongue, they are the two halves of Lorkhan’s ‘flesh-divinity’.”

“Lorkhan? Who’s he?”

“He’s also known as Shor to the Nords. I don’t remember everything I was told, but he tricked the gods into creating Mundus, so he was punished for his trickery.”

There was silence, for a time. Then, something came to the blue elf’s mind. “Can I ask you a rather personal question, Loki..?” Ian asked.

“Only if I can ask a personal question in turn. Shoot,” the cross-racial Dunmer responded.

“How come you came here, to Skyrim? You’ve hinted that life is much better elsewhere, so why not just pack up and go?”

“...”

Ian felt his blood run cold. Did he go too deep? Is Loki mad at him now?! “W-Was that too personal? I’m sorry..”

“No, it’s ok. I came here as a bit of my mom’s wish. She wanted me to learn at the college, as I had more magic potential than any other child in the Imperial City. I guess fate has me by a metal hook, as I’ve given myself far too many responsibilities to just pack up and leave Skyrim, as much as I want to one day,” he finished. “My turn. What was your life like? Before the bandits of course. Why did you leave it behind for this cesspool?”

Ian was quiet for a second. “I had a great life, and it wasn’t exactly my intention to hurl myself into Skyrim. I had a great brother who was always there for me, and an amazing mom. I recently got on good terms with my step-dad. I made awesome friends who accepted me so easily. The only thing I really missed... was my biological dad. He died before I was born..”

Loki hummed, “So you were fatherless too, huh? I never really knew my dad either to tell you the truth.”

There was something missing in Loki’s tone. Was it empathy? No. It was sadness. “You don’t sound very bothered..”

“Why should I be? The whole thing between my mom and him didn’t and couldn’t work out. A-according to her,” he stammered.

A comet passed by. Ian cocked a brow, “What do you mean?”

Silence. “I can talk more about it some other time. We have a long road ahead of us tomorrow and I don’t want you to be too tired.”

Ian could finally feel himself drifting away. “Alright, ‘night then..” he mumbled.

On the border of his consciousness, he heard a soft voice, “‘Night, Ian...”


	14. Helgen

_“This is different..”, Ian mumbled to himself, clutching his staff so hard his knuckles turned white. The webbing on the walls of the cave were old, but not nearly as old as the cracks and hanging moss._

_“Huh? Did you say something?”, the mage asked, looking over his shoulder with concern._

_“..Nothing.. just talking to myself...”_

_The two continued through the halls of draugr and skeletons. He was deeply unsettled by how many dead people there were. What if their ghosts still lingered, watching them. The young wizard didn’t like this. “W-Why don’t we leave? It seems a little disrespectful to be here”, he said._

_“We were told to investigate this place. It can’t be much more than a vampire coven”, the hybrid responded, the bright light lingering above his head not burning out anytime soon._

_“If you say so..”, Ian mumbled. He nervously followed his companion. He had a ‘Flame Infernar’ prepared on his tongue in case one of those monsters jump out._

———

Ian was shooken awake by the shoulder gently. Through sleepy eyes, he looked up to see Loki. He rubbed his eyes as the wizard sat up, it was still dark, with the sun barely on the horizon. What was that dream? It felt super real to him, unlike the others.

“Loki.. why did you wake me up this early? The sun’s not even up yet..”, he yawned.

“It’s better we go this early to get a head start. I had cleared out the bandits at Helgen so we wouldn’t run into any trouble”, he started.

He helped Ian to his feet. “What do you want for breakfast? There’s a few wedges of cheese, bread, apples, and dried venison..”

“I think I’m going to go wash my face at the river first.”

Loki nodded, letting down his hood to fix his own hair.

Ian sleepily hobbled down to the river. The currents flowed down the icy river, taking it down to Riverwood and possibly Whiterun. The reflection of his face was clear enough for him to see how much Skyrim had done to him already. Scratches on his face and bags under his eyes. He looked like shit to say the least. He splashed the cold liquid on his face, becoming much more awake in seconds. He wiped away the water from his eyes so he could properly see and fixed his hair. There were a few leaves and twigs in the mess of blue curls known as his hair. As he washed, or rather rinsed, his neck, he heard footsteps approach behind him.

Ian looked behind him, spotting his friend. Loki sat next to him casually, drinking from a familiar bottle and eating a slice of bread.

“Let me guess.. Honningbrew?”, he guessed.

The Dunmeri smiled, “of course! You know me too well!”, he chuckled. He offered the bottle to Ian, “want a sip? It’s still cold.”

“No thanks, I don’t drink alcohol”, he declined.

The elf hummed, “ok. You should have a sip, at least”, he raised the bottle to his lips.

Then, a devious idea came to the younger’s mind. Loki looked over at Ian, who was still grooming and preening his face, neck, and ears. He lowered his hand into the water and waited a few moments. He’s pulled this on his friends a couple times.

**_Swish!-_** He swung his hand out to splash Ian, getting cold water on his face and clothes. The blue elf gasped in surprise. Loki laughed as he made a mad dash back to the Guardian Stones before Ian could enact revenge.

“You’re such a dick! This stuff’s cold!”, Ian barked. He groaned, he’ll get back at him..

The wizard stomped back to the stones, seeing Loki already on Skadi, and Alfsigr waiting for him. He glared at the hybrid, checked to see if he had his staff, and hopped onto his own mare with a huff.

Allie looked up at her agitated rider. If horses could speak, she would most likely be asking, _‘What the hell happened to you?’_. He patted her neck as they begun to follow the mage and his steed. “ _Someone_ splashed me with cold river water..”, he mumbled.

Loki played innocent with the older elf, “really? Was it the witches of the forest, disguised as fish? Or did the imps do it?”, he questioned as he fed his steed a carrot

Ian scoffed, he’s such a-

A thought struck his mind as he spotted how many pebbles lined the road they traversed on.

The wizard smiled deviously as he pulled his staff out from it’s sheath on his back. He pointed the splinter at a small pebble, clearing his throat.

“ _Aloft Elevar!_ ”, he ordered of the staff, raising the very small stone with magical energies.

“Wha?-”, Loki didn’t finish what he was going to say when a pebble was hurled at the back of his head, hitting him. “Ow! Ian!?”, he exclaimed. He turned to look over his shoulder as he rubbed the back of his skull. Ian looked off into the distance, pretending he didn’t do anything while bearing a playful smirk.

Loki noticed he was holding the staff. So that’s one of it’s uses! Telekinesis! The village came into his peripheral vision.

“We’re heading into Helgen. Did I tell you that this place was attacked by a dragon?”

“Yeah, you told me. How big are the dragons in Skyrim? Do they vary in breeds?”, Ian asked as he rode next to the elven mage.

“No, there are variants of some dragons. But they all are big, fearsome, and power hungry bastards. Save for a few I know”, he said.

They walked through the gates of Helgen. Immediately, the eerie ruins of the town caused Ian to shudder.

“How would you know most dragons are bad?”

“Dragons in Tamriel are much different than the dragons you likely have. They once had enslaved the whole of mortal races eras ago”, he started. He looked towards the rising sun, “In short, dragons are demigods that are prideful and vain by nature.”

They passed by a tavern, Ian could begin to smell the death that Loki mentioned a while prior to heading out.

“..How many bandits were here?”, he questioned, changing the subject. He tightened his grip on Alfsigr’s reins anxiously.

“About.. fifteen. There’s always a new clan moving in, and I clear this place out every other month”, Loki said. He pulled an apple out of the small bag of food, taking a bite before offering another to the blue elf.

Feeling peckish, he took the green pome and bit into it. “Why do you come here so often? This place gives me the creeps being here for a few minutes.”

“Eh. ‘A boy’s gotta do, what he’s gotta do’”, he said.

A raven flew ahead from a leafless tree, cawing. Ian pulled his hood over his head, looking around wearily. Was he dreaming? These damn birds always come around when something bad happens.

The bird settled on a dead barbarian, picking at his eyeballs through his helmet. Ian looked away, disgusted and shaken.

“Scraggly looking birds, aren’t they?”, the Dunmer hybrid mumbled, looking over to Ian. He became worried instantly, “Something bothering you? We can just trot through Helgen if you want.”

Ian nodded quietly, taking another bite of the apple and keeping his eyes focused on the reins. He didn’t want to see anymore of.. _that_.

So they did just that. Trot out of the ruins of a dead village as quickly as they could. The only thing that bothered Ian more than the corpses themselves was that he traveled and somewhat depends on the same elf who was capable of this.

Would Loki ever turn on him? Kill him and leave him to be carrion? Ian peered to his left, seeing him passively watch the birds in the trees as they passed by. He rubbed his temple tiredly. What is he thinking? Loki wouldn’t harm him intentionally. More than likely, he would put himself in harm’s way to protect his friend.

“It’s going to get cold in a little bit as we go through the mountains. You sure you don’t want an ale or something?”, the mage asked.

Ian clicked his tongue, “I’m sure”, he responded. He took another bite into his apple before promptly giving it to his horse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished Loki’s character reference. I will do Ian’s soon but damn that took a lot out of me. Especially when I’m trying new stuff with my artstyle.  
> (Link to reference below since I can’t figure out how to post pics. _Please look at it I poured my heart into that boi’s design TwT_ )  
> http://fav.me/dduy13r


	15. Birch trees

The short trek through the mountain ranges were cold and terrible, just as Loki warned they were. Ian shivered against the cold winds. New Mushroomton occasionally snowed during winters, but that was only a few centimeters to an inch of depth. This was hellish.

“How much of Skyrim is snow and ice again?”, he inquired.

Loki wasn’t very bothered by the cold, “about.. fifty percent. We are in the northern province of Tamriel, after all”, he responded, scratching the back of his neck lazily. 

Ian sighed, pulling his hood over his eyes to stop snowflakes from clouding his vision. The Dunmeri hybrid chuckled, “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it. We’re almost out of the mountains and into The Rift.”

Ian warmed his hands, which were starting to grow numb from the cold. “The Rift better be warmer than this crap..”

“It is. You have to worry about the beasts, though. Bears, trolls, wolves, the rare bobcat..-”

Ian halted the battle-mage’s list, “Wait, Trolls?”, he asked. He really hoped that the trolls of Skyrim weren’t far different than Yore’s. One of his best friends is a troll..

“Yeah. They’re awfully dangerous to the unwary traveler, especially one that doesn’t know any fire spells.”

“Ughh.. everything here is ten times more vicious than my home. What’s next? Unicorns that have three sets of horns and breathe fire?”, he sarcastically remarked.

Loki chuckled, “It wouldn’t be too far fetched.. I’ve heard of the very rare unicorn from time to time. They are mostly an extinct species at this point, though.”

Ian hummed. At least there aren’t any scruffy, trash eating unicorns. He noticed that there was little to no snow anymore, and what replaced the scenery past the snowy mountains were birch trees. Gorgeous birch trees at that. All different shades of red, brown, orange, and yellow clung to white branches.

The wizard was awestruck, to say the least. It was still chilly, but he could at least tolerate it now. He let down his hood, fixing his hair as he followed next to Loki.

“Looks pretty, huh?”

Ian smiled, gazing at all the different warm hues painted on the leaves, “It is! I bet Riften is breathtaking then, to be rooted here!”

Loki chuckled, “as pretty as a city that’s been burned to the ground at least once can get, I guess”, he added, “Oh! Don’t forget this information, Ian!..”, he started. He waited for conformation from the blue elf to continue.

“Uh.. sure?”

“Riften is extremely shady. A powerful family lives there, and so does the Thieves Guild in Skyrim. I can’t recall how many times I’ve been tricked into buying some scam from Brynjolf..”, he mumbled.

“You were conned out? Several times by the same guy?”

“The jerk is super convincing! One time it was a ‘health potion that could remove any illness, _guaranteed_ ’, but it was just a normal healing potion in a different bottle!”

Ian laughed wholeheartedly. He masked his goofy smile with his hand.

“Oh- and it gets better! This man tricked also me into thinking I could drink a potion that would give me foresight. The shit was actually water mixed with bonemeal! I threw fifty septims down the drain to drink something I could get myself for ten septims!”, he irritably groaned.

“Gross..! Is that all you were fooled into doing”, Ian chuckled.

“The ‘potions’ or every stupid trick I fell for?”, the Dunmeri questioned, cracking a small smirk on his face.

For the next few hours on the road to Riften, Loki had recalled nearly every trick and prank he fell for during his time of living on Nirn. Some were more entertaining than others, but each had at least made Ian crack a smile on his face. His previous anxiety of the younger elf had dissipated.

“-Oh-oh! When I was fourteen, a year or two after coming to Skyrim, a fellow college student named Onmund had told me to walk off of the cliff leading to the ocean. I told him I would never do such a thing, but he convinced me after telling me that he had created a bridge spell that was invisible. So I deadass walked full stride off of the cliff and into the cold, icy water that is known as the Sea of Ghosts”, he recounted. “He and some other colleagues were laughing their asses off!”

Ian snickered. “What happened to Onmund after you came back up?”

“I got back at him! I poured a small amount of netch jelly into his magicka potions, the next day, he had stiff joints and back cramps!”, he laughed.

Ian chuckled. “Netch jelly?”

“I think it’s the venom used when they sting. It doesn’t really taste bad, but it does pack a punch if you eat an entire bowl of it”, he informed.

Ian gave him a slightly disgusted look, “Why would you eat something’s venom?”

“Why _not_ eat it? Many alchemists and mages use their taste senses when making potions and poisons!”

Ian sighed, “I’m surprised you’re not dead yet..”, he looked forward, seeing a city in the distance, less than five minutes away if they had their mare’s gallop.

“Is that Riften?”, he asked Loki.

The mage squinted his eyes before taking a look at the map, “Yup! That’s Riften up ahead! Want to race to the gate?”

Ian grinned, “Sure.”

The white haired elf smiled, “Ok, _readysetgo_!”, he barked, dashing off on Skadi with a head start.

“Hey! Unfair!”, Ian exclaimed, setting off after him.

Loki laughed immaturely, looking behind him. “It’s an advantage!”

Ian huffed, but smirked devilishly upon realizing he has a few of his own tricks up his sleeve. He unsheathes his splinter, tapped his horse’s back flank gently with the staff, and yelled, “Accelior!”

Alfsigr’s legs strengthened, glowed a faint blue, and caused her to gallop faster, much to the darker mare’s startlement. As they raced to the gates, many shades of red, orange, and brown leaves whizzed past the two. A few leaves found themselves buried in Ian’s curly locks as he dashed past Loki, surprising him. 

It took a full minute for Loki to reach the gates after Ian had practically rocketed him and Alfsigr to the end. Ian was leaning on the mare casually when the younger elf hopped down from Skadi, “That wasn’t a fair race!”, he half-joked. He clapped the brown eyed elf on the back as he led his horse to the stables.

“‘It was an advantage’!”, Ian mocked as he brought Allie into the stall next to Skadi.

Loki stuck his tongue out at Ian jokingly, “Just come with me into Riften. We’ll stay here overnight and head to Fort Dawnguard tomorrow morning”, he said, pulling leaves out of Ian’s hair.

“As early as this morning?”, he winced. He really doesn’t care for being woken up early. He isn’t much of a morning person to begin with.

“Of course not! According to that Orc’s marking on the map, it wouldn’t be more than thirty minutes of walking on foot.”

They walked through the gates, and the unfriendly vibes of the city hit him like a brick. The place is gloomy, with equally colorless citizens to match. Unlike the wilderness he and his companion raced through, the birch trees here were as depressing as the city. He rubbed his arm cautiously as he followed his companion over the sludge-like water below the bridges. Loki entered a tavern past the wooden bridge, with Ian following suit. He looked at the sign above him as he entered the inn, ‘The bee and barb’, it read.

Upon walking in, Loki was already sitting at the bar. Ian sat on a stool next to him. The mage opened his mouth, “W-”

“No, I won’t be having any alcohol”, he said.

Loki clicked his tongue, “I was going to ask what you wanted to eat, smartass!”

Ian chuckled, “I’m not really hungry. But what would you usually eat here?”

“Fish is Riften’s biggest food source, with it being so close to water. There is never a shortage of cooked salmon. I, myself am not much of a fish person, more of a deer or sheep elf..”, he rambled.

A lizard-like humanoid walked up to the counter, “What can I get you? Mead? Wine?”

Ian was rather bewildered. He’s seen it all now. A wingless, talking, bipedal dragon wearing a sultry dress. Loki noticed his friend’s shock induced silence, and took action before Keerava would take it the wrong way. “I-I’ll have a small ale and cooked beef, and he would like water!”

The Argonian nodded, “I better see coin on the counter when I get back”, she said firmly before leaving the counter to prepare their orders.

Loki chuckled at Ian burying his red face in his arms out of embarrassment, “I remember seeing an Argonian for the first time in my life, burst into tears!”

Ian looked up, “Really?..”

He nodded, “Then again, I was a year and a half old, and he was a good friend of my mom’s. He came over for tea and to meet me for the first time.”

“Did he come back ever again?”

Loki chuckled, “Of course he did. After a few more visits, I grew used to seeing the lizard man in my home occasionally. I think his name was ‘Reeh-Tei’, or something.”

“You don’t remember his name?”

“I had to have seen him a dozen times in my life before he was killed by slaughterfish!”, he defended jokingly.

Ian narrowed his eyes, “You say that as if it didn’t bother you..”, he mumbled.

“It’s a dangerous job to be an Argonian fisher, with their natural affinity for water. I didn’t understand his fate until I was ten. Even then, I had a lot of things on my plate: work odd jobs, getting my mom medicine, be able to feed her and myself, help to pay rent..”, Loki rambled, fidgeting with a ring on his right hand.

Ian took a glance at it. A metal ring with a wolf’s head engraved on it. While Loki went on about how ridiculous the rent for his home was, Ian had taken the moment to study more of the taller, yet younger elf. He just noticed the ear piercings he donned on his right ear, possibly ivory. Ian also noticed the small and faint scars alike that littered his features.

“..Like, seriously, we lived in an average house in the Elven Gardens District, but the cost made it seem like we lived in the Talos Plaza District!”, he ranted.

The lizard woman returned, served the two males their drinks and Loki’s ‘dinner’. He pulled out a handful of septims, thumbing through the gold coins as he counted them, and placed them on the counter for her to take.

“I just noticed that you wear quite a bit of jewelry..”, Ian commented as he took a sip from his water.

Loki felt the piercings that shackled themselves to his ear, humming. “I got those done in a year or two ago shortly afterwards I traveled to this place called ‘Solstheim’. It’s a bit of a Dunmer ‘tradition’, I guess”, he then removed the ring and traced his thumb over the intricate carvings on the band. “This one.. is a bit harder to explain”, he chuckled. He bit into the cooked beef and took a swig of ale.

Ian cocked an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“I.. this is an enchanted ring that makes me significantly stronger, more athletic..”, he said.

“Huh.. how does it feel to put it on and take it off?”

“The change is gradual. I don’t feel it’s effects until I’m in a fight or something”, Loki explained. He slipped the metal band back on. He knocked on the hard wooden counter to get the Argonian innkeeper’s attention.

She approached, “Need something?”

“I was hoping to rent out a couple rooms. How much?”, he asked.

“Sixty septims for both rooms. Do you have the coin?”

“Sure do..”, he responded. As he began to count out the money from his pocket, Ian yawned. He rested his head on his arms, listening to a bard play a flute as he rested his eyes.

Ian didn’t realize he fell asleep until he was shaken awake by his shoulder. He looked up to see his friend, while he rubbed his eyes sleepily.

“Wanna head up to your room so you can sleep without being stolen from?”, Loki humorously asked.

“Sure..”, Ian responded. He tiredly followed Loki up the stairs to a bunch of doors leading to different rooms.

Loki opened the door to his room, “Your’s is next to mine on the left. Holler if you need anything”, he said. He closed the door, leaving Ian alone.

“Night..”, he softly said, before strolling into his own room. There wasn’t much, only a bed, night table, and wardrobe. He sighed comfortably upon settling onto the bed. It wasn’t anything glamorous, but it was much better than the cold ground he slept on the night before.

The silence and darkness was suffocating. When he was much younger, he would go into Barley’s room and crawl into his bed with him. Around twelve or so, he stopped going to his brother for comfort, but the loneliness never left him. That’s probably why his mom decided to get Blazey as a fourteenth birthday present for him, knowing damn well that he needs at least _someone_ besides her and Barley.

The blue elf groaned, flipping himself over on his side. He slept fine when he was on the icy ground, or on the barstool. Why, when he’s finally in a warm bed, is he not sleeping?

“ _Oh_...”, he said quietly and bitterly to himself. It’s because he’s a clingy, affection starved teenager that was enslaved by bandits for three weeks. He slammed the pillow on top of his face as he tried his damn hardest to fall asleep.


	16. Fort Dawnguard

_Loki hid behind the door, wincing at the terrible coughing fits his mother had. A healer from the temples was currently examining his sickly parent. He poked his head out from the door, slowly regaining his courage. ‘Why am I hiding from my mother of all people? I’m a big boy!’, he thought as he slowly inched his head further into the room._

_This has been going on for a week or two. She would have to pause her words to cough, and would curse Peryite for the sudden cough she caught._

_But it’s getting worse. When she started keeling over and coughing up blood, the ten year old elf rushed to the temples for someone to help._

_“How does everything else feel, Suri? Your joints? Stomach?”_

_“I just feel weak all over.. I don’t have much of an appetite, either..”, she rasped._

_The healer hummed, examining her clouding eyes and pale skin. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Have you had any experiences with rats lately?”_

_“Yeah..-”, she was stopped by a heinous coughing fit that lasted nearly three minutes. “..I-I was at the market, buying some food for dinner when a rat bit my ankle from the sewers..”, she weakly explained._

_“What happened to the rat? Did it look to be sickly?”_

_“No.. I think it just didn’t want me so close to it’s den. Poor thing.. was probably a mother, so I just went home, disinfected the bite, and bandaged it. It never crossed my mind again-”. Suri went into another coughing fit, smearing the crimson liquid at the side of her mouth and dotting her clothes red._

_The healer wiped the Dunmeri woman’s mouth with a handkerchief. “What about your son? Does he show any symptoms?”_

_She shook her head, “No. If anything, he’s healthier than any other child I’ve seen.”_

_The Imperial nodded, she stood from the stool she sat at, “Get some rest. I’ll revisit tomorrow with a few other’s to further examine you.”_

_As she walked out of the room, she passed by Loki. “So what’s wrong with my mom? What’s gonna happen to her?”, the child asked, gently tugging on her robes to get her attention._

_She sighed, “Do you know what Blood Lung is? I would assume you wouldn’t..”_

_Loki shook his head, “Is that something really bad?”_

_The healer kneeled down to the boy’s height, “It’s very bad. Luckily, it’s not contagious, but she will need a lot of care until the symptoms eventually wear out”, she then asked the dreaded question, “Do you have any other known relatives?”_

_The raven haired boy shook his head. She mentally cursed herself._

_“I’ll be back tomorrow with a few other’s to fully confirm if it’s Blood Lung. It could be a mad coincidence, but I do want you to promise to do a few things your mother isn’t able to do right now, ok?”, She asked._

_Loki nodded, smiling determinedly. A tooth was missing from his maw as his grin became wider. “I promise! I’ll cook! I’ll clean! I’ll be the best caretaker for my mom!”_

_The woman smiled sadly. She gently patted his shoulder, “Be sure to let me and some fellow healers in tomorrow to help take care of your mother.”_

_Loki opened the door for the healer, “I will! Bye Miss healer!”, he called, not actually knowing her name, waving widely at the woman as she left the house._

_He can make this work, he knows it!_

———

Loki’s eyes fluttered open as sunlight peaked through the window above him, shining into his eyes. He groaned, sitting up to stretch. The hybrid stretched his back, hearing a somewhat satisfying set of pops and cracks. He shifted out of his bed, yawning. He put his boots on and checked to see if he had everything. Sword? In sheath. Ring? On his finger, of course. Gaulder Amulet? Around his neck. Ian? Quite possibly in his room.. 

He ran his fingers through his white locks as he left his room. He knocked on the door to Ian’s room, “You up?”, Loki asked through the wooden door.

He heard a faint, but tired ‘Yeah..’ on the other side. The Dunmer entered the room, finding Ian with a pillow over his head. He sat at the edge of the bed, gently pulling up enough of the pillow to see the older’s tired and slightly annoyed face.

“Sleep ok?”, he asked, he knew the answer, but wanted clarification.

“Nope. Can I have about thirty more minutes?..”

Loki’s response to the blue elf was him picking up the pillow, and hitting Ian’s head with the soft cushion. Ian groaned, pulling a pelt over his head, “Go away!..”

“C’mon, get up”, he said, pulling the covers up from the foot of the bed, exposing the bluenette’s bare feet to the cold.

Ian huffed irritably, “Fine. What’s on your mind for breakfast?”, he asked, inching himself out of bed and getting ready.

“I was thinking of apple pie, or maybe boiled cream treats..”, he fantasizes, leaning against the door frame.

“I’ll just eat whatever’s good, honestly. When we first came into Riften, I think I saw a market past the inn. Maybe there?”

Loki’s eyes sparkled a little bit, “Good eye! Get ready then and meet me outside the Bee and Barb!”

Ian nodded, yawning. Loki headed down the stairs, past the people coming in for a morning mead or two. He walked out the door, taking in the smell of Riften. Bland, stale, and faintly of Black-Briar mead.

He leaned against the railing, looking down at the dark green water below and recoiling upon getting a whiff of it’s stench. He wouldn’t be surprised if a body was rotting down there and the guards never bothered to get it out.

Loki leaned his back against the wooden railing, waiting for Ian to come out. How long would it take for him to come out? He only has to bring himself! There was the possibility that he just went back to bed, though.

He was proven wrong when Ian left the inn, fixing his hair and straightening his robes. “We going?”, he asked.

Loki nodded, leading into the marketplace where all sorts of characters were selling goods. From fresh meat to armor. Loki approached a vendor with small pastry items solicited to hungry passerby. “How much would twenty gold buy?”, he asked.

“About five boiled creams”, she responded.

“That’ll do. Here.”

After exchanging the goods, Loki gave Ian a couple of the treats, “You have two, I have two. The last one will be given to whoever gets hungry on the way to Fort Dawnguard.”

Ian nodded, taking a bite of the treat. He and the taller elf walked around the marketplace, with the younger showing Ian the path they will take to the fort.

A familiar voice caught Loki’s attention, one that made him scowl.

“Make love like a sabercat, or crush your enemies to dust like a giant! Only a mere twenty gold coins and this could all be your’s!”

He buried his attention into the map, “Don’t think about it, it’s probably dog piss in a bottle..”, he hissed.

Ian heard Loki’s comment, “What?”

Loki pointed backwards with his thumb, focusing on the small doodles of trees on the map.

“Twenty gold, and your strength will be quadrupled, quintupled even!”, Brynjolf entertained loudly.

Loki looked around for something to occupy his attention. Then the red-head noticed him, “Hey, Loki! I know this will interest you! Twenty gold and you can rip a tree from it’s roots!”

Loki sighed. He turned to Ian, “We should be going before this guy robs me of twenty septims.”

“Good call.”

The two elves were in the process of passing by his stand, “Before you leave Loki, this one is real! All the other ones were a small misunderstanding. People have come back to me thanking me for this bottle of pure strength enhancement!”

That caught the white haired elf’s attention. “Really?- wait! That was your excuse last time!”, he barked. Ian was gently tugging on Loki’s sleeve to help him along.

“C’mon Loki..”, Ian urged, slowly pulling him along.

“That could be the foresight from that bottle kicking in! You’re remembering things before they happen!”

Loki narrowed his eyes as Ian continued to usher him along, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me sixteen times, shame on me!”

Brynjolf shrugged his shoulders casually, “Alright then, I can’t force you to become one of the strongest men in Skyrim..”

Loki groaned in defeat. What if he’s right? Extreme strength? Yes please! With little effort, he pulled himself over to Brynjolf, with Ian digging his heels into the ground. He shoved a fistful of septims into his hands, “Take the damn gold and give me a bottle!”

“Loki! No!”, Ian barked angrily.

———

As the two elves continued to Fort Dawnguard from Riften, Loki glared down at the opened bottle of ‘enhancing strength’. Of course it was a scam, it tasted exactly like crushed up Snowberries and ale.

Ian clicked his tongue, “I told you..”

He stuffed away the empty bottle, looking forward as they traveled down the road. “I know..”

There was silence between the two, for a short time. Then Loki chuckled softly, “Add that to the list of stupid stuff I fell for. Number two hundred and seventy six, god strength via potion!”

Ian snickered. As they crossed a small stone bridge, he looked forward. There was a cave opening behind a fallen tree log. “Is that it?”

Loki looked at the map, tracing his finger over the charcoal mark before looking back up. “Seems like it. It wouldn’t hurt to look..”, he mumbled.

The two magic users dismounted their horses. Loki lead the way through the opening, leading into a canyon. The sun’s light shone through the openings of the canyon, shining light here and there. As they further traverse through the canyon, birch and pine trees were planted everywhere to house small songbirds as the elk grazed below. A waterfall accompanied by a glacier poured cold water into the small lake below.

The younger of the two elves noticed a young Nord walking ahead of them.

“Hi!”, Loki called out.

The male turned, smiling passively, “Oh! Hey there! You here to join the Dawnguard too?”

Loki hummed, “Me and my companion here!”, he said.

“Hi”, Ian simply said, giving a small wave.

He smiled, “Truth is, I'm a little nervous. I've never done anything like this before. I hope you don't mind if I walk up with you..”, he said rather nervously.

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

As they traversed the trails, the blonde spoke up, “Hey, uh, don't tell Isran I was afraid to meet him by myself. Not the best first impression for a new vampire hunter, I guess..”, he asked, chuckling nervously.

“Of course!”, Loki responds, smiling. 

“You've probably killed lots of vampires, huh? I'm sure Isran will sign you right up. Not sure he'll take me. I hope so!”

Loki shrugged, “I’ve killed a bit of them. Not too many to make myself a vampire hunter.”

Ian rolled his eyes, smiling at the two chatting back and forth. He’s heard these kinds of conversations between Barley and his friends when they have Quests of Yore campaigns.

Upon turning a corner, past a particularly big tree, a ginormous fort towered above them, nearly touching the clouds.

“That must be it. Fort Dawnguard... Wow. Bigger than I expected..”, the Nord muttered. He checked to see if he had his axe before following Loki and Ian.

Loki had to have counted three people manning the outside, shooting from a rather short automatic bow. “Three people? That’s not a lot for an ancient order of vampires..”, he mumbled.

As they entered through a set of doors, a dark fort with two arguing figures ahead met them.

“Why are you here, Tolan? The Vigilants and I were finished with each other a long time ago..”, a Redguard interrogated. That must be the leader.

“You know why I'm here. The Vigilants are under attack everywhere. The vampires are much more dangerous than we believed!”, a Vigilant of Stendarr, Tolan, argued back.

“And now you want to come running to safety with the Dawnguard, is that it? I remember Keeper Carcette telling me repeatedly that Fort Dawnguard is a crumbling ruin, not worth the expense and manpower to repair. And now that you've stirred up the vampires against you, you come begging for my pardon?”

Tolan let his gaze drop to the ground, “Isran, Carcette is dead. The Hall of the Vigilants... everyone... they're all dead. You were right, we were wrong! Isn't that enough for you?”

Silence echoed throughout the fort, bouncing off of the walls eerily, “Yes, well... I never wanted any of this to happen. I tried to warn all of you... I am sorry, you know”, Isran empathized.

He saw the three youths. He approached them, “So who are you? What do you want?”, he asked somewhat harshly.

Loki spoke for the other two, “We heard you were looking for vampire hunters.”

“You heard right. I'm glad word's finally starting to get around. But that means it won't be long before the vampires start to take notice as well”, he said.

“What can I do to help?”, Loki asked.

“I need someone out in the field, taking the fight to the damn vampires, while we're getting the fort back into shape...”, he motioned to the Vigilant, “Tolan was telling me about some cave that the Vigilants were poking around in. Seemed to think it was related to these recent vampire attacks”, he looked at the man, “Tolan, tell him about, what was it, Dimhollow?”

Tolan nodded, looking at both Loki and Ian, “Yes, that's it. Dimhollow Crypt. Brother Adalvald was sure it held some long lost vampire artifact of some kind. We didn't listen to him any more than we did Isran. He was at the Hall when it was attacked...”

Isran nodded, “That's good enough for me. Go see what the vampires were looking for in this Dimhollow Crypt. With any luck, they'll still be there.”

Loki nodded, he turned to leave with Ian, but was halted by Tolan, “I'll meet you at Dimhollow. It's the least I can do to avenge my fallen comrades.”

Isran cocked a brow with uncertainty, “Tolan, I don't think that's a good idea. You Vigilants were never trained for-”

He was cut off by the Nord, “I know what you think of us. You think we're soft, that we're cowards! You think our deaths proved our weakness! Stendarr grant that you do not have to face the same test and be found wanting. I'm going to Dimhollow Crypt. Perhaps I can be of some small assistance to you.”

Loki nodded, “We will hang back for a bit. Where is it located?”, he asked, pulling out his map and showing it to the man.

“It’s between Dawnstar and Morthal, in the mountains..”, he informed, circling it’s location with a charcoal stick.

“Thanks! We’ll meet you there!”

As the Vigilant left through the large sets of doors, and Isran began to talk with the blonde Nord, Loki and Ian headed to a few sets of crates.

“So this is how we’ll get to Dimhollow Crypt in less than two days..”, Loki started, already having a structured route set up. “We’ll take the road north of Riften, past Shor’s stone, through Eastmarch, and stop for the night at.. Windhelm..”, he said distastefully.

Ian rested his head on his hand, “What’s wrong with Windhelm?”, he asked.

“The place is loaded with prejudice towards anyone except a Nord! Every time I go there, I have to yell at someone over harassing the Dunmer!”, he exclaimed, scowling at the sigil of a bear representing the cold city.

“Why don’t we skip past it? We can always sleep outside like a couple days ago..”

Loki cocked a brow at Ian, “You were shivering terribly when we were in those mountains for a couple hours. You wouldn’t last long outside in the nights of northern Skyrim..”, he said.

Ian clicked his tongue, “Well ok then. Shitty City it is then!”, he chuckled.

Loki laughed, “Once we survive a night at Shitty City, we’ll divert off of the road west of Windhelm and head into the mountains east of Morthal, to which we might run into Tolan before heading in, if he doesn’t get impatient and heads in by himself..”

Ian hummed, “Sounds like a plan. Do we leave now, or stay here to eat something?”

The mage scoffed, “There’s no way I’m skipping out on lunch. I was thinking of hanging out by that waterfall to eat before we go...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> +2,700 words _oh my god_.


	17. Honningbrew Mead

Ian gawked at the volcanic tundra known as Eastmarch. Pine trees stood tall, making the two elves and their mounts look like insignificant ants below.

Loki chuckled, “Wait until you see the giants and their mammoths..”

Ian looked over, “Is that all that resides here?”

“..And sabercats, dragons, deer, skeevers, wolves, hagravens, witches-”

“Ok, ok. I get your message, the majority of the things here would crush my head to a paste and not lose any sleep..”, he mumbled.

The Dunmer scoffed, “Not while I still breathe!”, he barked, looking away distastefully. He then looked back, smirking, “Then again.. what would want to hurt you in the first place?”, he asked.

Ian shrugged, “The bandits that forced me to make gold ingots bigger would kick me into a fetal position if I looked at them wrong..”, he grumbled. Somehow, they never did break anything, but gave him the worst bruises.

“And now they’re dead! What goes around, comes around!”, Loki retorted humorously.

Ian stayed silent for a short time, “Why doesn’t it bother you? I-I still can’t get over killing one of them and a wolf..”, he rasped. He didn’t dare break down in front of his friend. If he tried, he could still smell burnt flesh and see that man’s face.

Loki shrugged, “I just never look back, Ian. It distracts me from the now.”

“I don’t think I can do something like that. It took me most of my life to move on from my dad’s death.. somewhat.”

“You’ll eventually learn. You have to learn, especially in this time and era where danger and deceit waits to bite your ankle like a snake..-”, Loki paused, gasping at a flying figure in the distance.

Ian looked in Loki’s direction, a dragon. At this point, it was not messing with them, instead swooping over a mountain-like lair off in the distance. “What’s wrong? It’s not bothering anyone.”

“Let’s just get out of here before it _does_ start bothering us”, Loki said, “I’d rather not tangle with it, and the horses would definitely not enjoy being cooked. Isn’t that right, Skadi?”, he asked the white dapple, ruffling her mane. She let out a chuff in return.

Ian chuckled lightly at Loki’s affinity towards the equine. He looked ahead, seeing a big stone city in the far distance. It also looked very cold. The warm-ish volcanic tundra around them would not last for much longer..

———

Ian and Loki dismounted their horses, leaving them to the stable master. Ian shivered against the cold while Loki simply rubbed his arms. “How are you not freezing?!”, Ian questioned as they passed by the gates.

Loki snickered, “I just don’t. I’m half snow elf and I’ve lived here for three years, of course I’m going to have a bit of a resistance!”

Ian grumbled, “Let’s just find somewhere warm before I freeze solid..”

They entered an inn called ‘Candlehearth Hall’. Upon entering, Ian sighed out of relief, feeling warmth graze his face.

Loki dusted himself off of snow before doing the same to the older elf, swiping the frozen water off of Ian’s back and shoulders. They sat at the bar, occupied by a blonde Nord woman. Upon seeing the two elves she narrowed her eyes, “More Dunmer, just what we need..”, she mumbled sarcastically.

Loki ignored her, “Sure you don’t want at least an ale?”

Ian rolled his eyes, “Y’know what? Fine. I’ll have whatever you get..”, he said. He came to the realization during their lunch that Loki will never stop bothering him about having some alcohol. Besides, who’s going to punish him? His mom? Barley? Colt? And what would be the harm of a bottle or two?

Loki was surprised. It was a welcome surprise, but regardless, still a shock to him. “Ok. Could we get two Honningbrew meads?”, he requested of the innkeeper.

“Twenty septims”, she blatantly said as she pulled out two unopened bottles of the mead from the counter.

Loki hummed, fishing out a handful of septims and placing them in her palm. He grabbed a bottle and opened it, taking a swig. “You know how to open a bottle?”, he asked Ian, whom was struggling to pull off the cork.

Ian sighed, still working at getting the damn cork off, “I’ve never drank before.. is there a trick or something?”

“No..”, Loki gently took the bottle and pulled the cork off. “You just need some muscle.”

“..Thanks”, Ian said, taking the bottle back. His face was slightly flushed red from embarrassment. He looked in the bottle, seeing the gold colored liquid slosh back and forth.

“You know how to drink?”, the dark elf asked, snickering lowly to himself as he took another drink.

Ian threw him a quick glare, knowing well that Loki is messing with him. _‘Screw it..’_ , he thought to himself and took a quick sip of the mead. He was taken aback with how sweet it is. Of course, he knew it was called Honningbrew Mead for a reason, but the taste of honey is so strong. If he didn’t know better, he would think he was given warm, watered down honey with sugar and alcohol. He didn’t dislike it, he actually likes the taste! Then again, he ate packets of sugar back home with him being the sugar junkie he is. Sugar packets.

He took another sip, growing used to the strong sweetness of the drink, “So? You like it?”, Loki asked.

Ian nodded, taking another swig of the golden liquid in content.

———

Ian began to feel a little lightheaded and fuzzy a few drinks later. While Loki very consciously talked of how he once got so intoxicated after a drinking contest, he proposed to a hagraven, sold a goat to a giant to pay for the ring, and trashed a temple of Dibella, Ian was drinking and laughing along with his companion. He doesn’t know whether Wilden would be rolling in his grave, or happy that his youngest son is more comfortable in his skin than he usually is.

Loki currently talked of how Sam Guevenne was actually the deadric prince, Sanguine. While Elda Early-Dawn just rolled her eyes and played off the Dunmeri’s story as just a story for attention, he seemed to have caught Ian’s attention. It wasn’t a boring story, far from it! Sure, it was ridiculous, and any normal person would tell Loki to be lighter on his drinks. Then again, Ian isn’t normal, not by a long shot. He is undeniably special, being from a completely different world that has dragons for pets and machinery that would even intrigue the Dwemer.

“So this guy, Sanguine, gave me this cool staff that could summon Dremora whenever I’d like!”, he finished recounting, downing the last of his fourth bottle. Ian was just barely finished with his third drink, and was already feeling the buzz, no doubt.

“So where is this staff?”, the innkeeper asked, cocking an eyebrow while she cleaned a tankard.

“It’s in my home, Lakeview Manor! I’ve also got an entire room full of gems and trinkets I’ve collected over time. Anyone would think it’s the dragon blood when they see how bad I hoard treasure!”, Loki knew it wasn’t wise to tell near strangers that he has a storage room filled with gold and gemstones that would make a dragon jealous, but who in their right mind would go through the trouble of busting open an enchanted lock he enchanted himself and set off an Atronach trap? He wouldn’t. Well.. maybe he would, not intentionally of course!

He suddenly felt Ian lean on him, resting his head on his shoulder. Loki looked to see a somewhat wasted blue elf half leaning on his shoulder. “You ok, Ian? Need water or something to sober up?”

Ian tiredly shook his head, “No.. you’re warm..”, he mumbled.

Loki’s mind was equivalent to a void for a solid ten seconds. Maybe it’s time to put the drinks down and go to sleep. He looked over to the innkeeper, “How much for two rooms?”, he asked.

Elda thought about it for a minute, “Thirty gold”, she concluded.

Loki forked over the septims, “T-Thanks!”, he said. He helped the wizard up from the barstool, careful to not let the older male fall face first into the floor.

“It’s the first two rooms on your left”, she told the Dunmer before going back to polishing another tankard.

Loki led Ian to the room next to his own, setting him down on the bed. The elven mage was about to leave for his own room when Ian grabbed his sleeve.

“Huh? Need some water?”, he asked, turning to face the bluenette.

Ian was quiet for a second, “Could.. could you sleep here with me? Please?..”, he asked, diverting his brown eyes from Loki’s blue.

Loki’s cheeks dusted pink. As in sleep in the bed? Or on the floor next to the bed? He’s fine with both, but that’s a big change in Ian. The elf is full of surprises tonight..

The Dunmer concluded that he’s intoxicated, cold, tired, misses his family, and just wants company. “Sure..”, he said.

Ian rolled to one side of the bed contently, allowing plenty of room for the younger male. He slipped under the blankets of pelts, resting his head on the pillow next to the blue elf’s head.

He stayed silent. He’s always slept alone. It’s been far too long since Loki had shared a bed with someone. He muttered a ‘Night..’ to Ian.

Ian didn’t respond, he was already asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Count how many references I make of other (Pixar) movies and other works uwu


	18. Snow

_Suri frowned at her sniffling six year old son as they strode along the river bank, south of the Imperial City. They enjoyed walks like these, gazing at all the different plants and animals, and occasionally finding small trinkets to bring home._

_But on this specific day, she was brought to worry when her child came home crying uncontrollably. So they went on a walk in an effort to coax Loki into telling her what happened. Without him telling her, Suri could draw a theory on why he was sobbing. It was no secret to her that her son made friends easily, but also makes himself bully fodder to the less friendly children. Those little parasites are the spawn of privileged nobles who live in the Talos Plaza district and walk all over people like her and Loki._

_Loki sniffled, rubbing his nose. “Ancadalf and his friends said mean things to me..”, he finally mumbled, rubbing his red and tear swollen eyes. Suri sighed, that Altmer is always so unmannerly. This would be the fifth time this Rain’s Hand Loki had told her that boy had antagonized him, shoving rotten tomatoes down his shirt and slapping his back, tripping him into mud, and the like. This is different though, Loki usually dusts himself off and goes about his day disgruntled, but rather fine for the most part._

_“What did they say to you?”, she asked, fearing the worst._

_“T-They made fun of me. They called me a mutt elf..”_

_Suri narrowed her crimson eyes, “Loki..”_

_Loki ran forward so that he could turn and face his mother from the front, “It’s true, isn’t it? I know I don’t look like a Dark Elf! I’m pale, I have blue eyes, I look almost nothing like you!” He pulled at his raven black hair, “Why is my hair the only thing I take after you?! I don’t even know what that other half of me is!” He cried. A few tears ran down his cheeks as the day’s events slowly took a hit on him._

_The Dunmeri woman sighed. She should just tell him.. She slowly approached Loki, kneeling down on her knees and gently taking his hands out of his hair. A few strands were pulled from his hands as she dusted them clean. She cupped his plump face in her hands, “Your father was a great man, who helped everyone in need, regardless of who they were..”_

_Loki sniffled, “You always tell me that.. what was he?”_

_“I will explain the whole story when we return home, but I will say this. He could have been an Orc, or a Nord, or even an Argonian, and I would have still fallen in love with him,” she said, gently combing through his hair with her fingers, soothing the elven boy. “I should have told you instead of hiding your father’s half. You deserve more than that. I’m sorry,” she softly said as she gave his forehead a kiss._

_“R-Really?”, Loki asked._

_Suri smiled, “Of course!..”, her smile faded slightly, “Maybe someday, when you come of age and take up adventuring as I once did, you may find him..”_

_The small elf’s nose scrunched up, “What do I say to Ancadalf then?”_

_“You don’t need to tell him anything. Just hold your head up high and be proud of who you are. It doesn’t matter if you are half and half, what truly matters is the full effort you put into your life. There is only one of you in this world, Loki” she told him, gently poking his chest with her finger where his heart would be._

_She continued, “I can even make a guess you will do great things in the future. I believe you will..”_

———

Ian’s eyes slowly opened. The first thoughts to swarm his head were, ‘That was a good night’s sleep’, and, ‘Why does my head hurt so much?’.

“Morning sleepy head. Sleep ok?..”

Ian jumped out of the bed quickly, releasing his arm from around the boy’s hip, not realizing he was actually cuddling Loki of all people.

“What are you doing in my bed?!”, he exclaimed.

Loki simply stretched from his position on his back, “You wanted me here”, he said simply.

Ian’s head was swarming more as foggy memories of last night flooded into his head. He blushed horrendously, “I’m so sorry! Did I talk in my sleep? Did I keep you awake?”. He hid his blushing face in his hands.

Loki chuckled as he sat up, “I woke up about ten minutes ago having to pee, but other than that, you were so still I initially thought you were dead!”

The blue elf groaned, feeling the effects of a hangover. He rubbed his eyes, “I’m never drinking again..”

The Dunmeri hybrid got out of the bed, “Sure you won’t..”, he joked sarcastically. He walked past Ian, patting him on the back, “Hey. It really wasn’t a big deal. I’ll meet you outside of Windhelm’s gates, and we’ll make our way to Dimhollow from there.”

Ian nodded passively, watching the taller male leave the room unfazed. Is that a normal thing, to sleep in another’s bed? Or is he just that patient with the blue skinned elf? He sighed, rubbing his aching head and fixing his clothes.

———

Loki chatted away. He bit into a wedge of cheese he bought from the market as they traversed the frozen forests of Skyrim. Ian had just begun to get used to the cold, but he would much rather enjoy the warmer areas like Eastmarch. Ian finished eating his own cheese wedge. He slowly began to recover from the painful headache as a result of his drinking.

Loki whistled to get Ian’s attention, “See that fort ahead?”, he asked him.

“Yeah”, Ian said, spotting an old fort not too far away. 

“That’s Fort Dunstad. Since it could be hard for the horses to go up the mountains, I figure it would be best to leave them there and finish the next couple hours by walking.”

The wizard nodded, “Good call”. As they approached the fort, manned by soldiers wearing primary brown and red armor, Ian noticed that the symbol displayed on banners was identical to the emblem that Loki uses to hold parts of his robes in place.

“Hey Loki. What’s with the symbol of a dragon everywhere?”

Loki hummed, “It’s the symbol of the Empire. The reason I have this thing is because I took part as a soldier in the Civil War here a few years ago”, he hummed. He tapped a finger on the emblem pin.

Ian’s eyes widened. “You.. you fought in a war?..”, he quietly asked. He’s seen and heard what war can do to a person. He’s surely seen what post traumatic stress disorder did to his step-father, Colt, with him unable to be around for fireworks or loud sudden noises in general. It’s not a topic discussed at school, or much at all. Loki had told him before that he was in the Imperial Legion, but not that he was engaged in a bloody civil conflict. Comparing a soldier to a _soldier_ is like comparing a modern phoenix to an Old Yoren phoenix. Both are technically the same bird, but there is an obvious difference.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it a _war_. It only lasted a year before Ulfric Stormcloak was put to the sword. It was more of a rebellion than a war”, he continued passively, not picking up on Ian’s tone of voice.

Ian stayed quiet. He stroked Alfsigr’s mane as he followed his friend into Fort Dunstad. As they passed by the various guards and soldiers, a few gave notice to the dark elf.

What followed was more of a blur to Ian, as he was still processing the information about the war. Loki would have been twelve or thirteen by the time he joined the fray. Do they really allow children to become soldiers at such a young age? Is that one of the reasons why he’s so calm and lighthearted about death? When Ian was twelve, he was barely in middle school, playing with his brother childishly. They left the mares, and began their trek up the snowy mountain.

Loki began to notice Ian was quiet, or more rather deep in thought. Is it the bed? Or was it him telling the wizard that he was a soldier? He told Ian he was a part of the Legion a while back. It has to be the bed. Loki internally scoffed to himself. Why would Ian still be hooked on that? Loki slowly lagged behind to scoop up snow into his hand. Regardless, the elf needs to lighten up a little, have some fun before they torch some vampires. He formed the snow into a ball, melding it together with his hands. He grinned deviously, aiming at the older elf whom still hasn’t noticed he stopped.

He pitched the snowball at the back of Ian’s head, causing him to exclaim in surprise and fall forward. Loki keeled over, laughing, as the bluenette felt the back of his head where the snow pelted him.

Ian looked back at Loki, who was on the ground laughing his ass off. He quickly started forming a snowball of his own. The dark elf rushed to hide behind a tree before he was hit with Ian’s snowball.

The white haired elf hurled a snowball at Ian from behind the tree, not expecting him to have his staff unsheathed.

“ _Aloft Elevar!_ ”, he shouted, levitating the ball of snow in midair. “Accelior!”, he pitched the snowball back at Loki, pelting him dead center in his face.

“Hey! No magic!”, Loki barked as he recoiled behind the tree to rub away the frozen water.

Ian laughed, “What are you gonna do, Loki? I’m the one with a staff!”

He scoffed playfully from behind the tree. He could use telekinesis, but that would be too obvious of retaliation. He dashed from behind the tree, charging at Ian with full intent of taking that staff and making him eat snow!

Ian gasped in surprise. In a moment of brief adrenaline, he spun the staff above his head before pointing it at the charging elf’s feet, “ _Contragrava!_ ”.

He seemed to trip on air, tumbling into Ian and knocking themselves into the snow. Ian was underneath the much stronger male, trapped with his staff knocked away a few feet.

Loki blushed, just now seeing how attractive and slightly androgynous the smaller elf really was. Blue, curly hair with small snowflakes buried amongst them. Gorgeous brown eyes.. wait-! Why in the sixteen planes of oblivion is he thinking like that?! Ian isn’t gay! Is he? Even if he was, he wouldn’t bother with an idiot like him!-

“Uh.. Loki?”, Ian piped up from under the male.

Loki snapped out of his thoughts, realizing they are in a really awkward position. He laughed nervously, he stood up and pulled Ian up with him. The red on his face would be equivalent to Ian’s that morning. He was still deep in thought when a snowball pelted his face. He quickly shook the cold substance off, hearing the recognizable laugh from the bluenette.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Ok, ok. You win! Let’s get moving before dusk..”

It wasn’t long before they passed a burned down house of sorts. Loki winced at the sight, “That’s the Hall of Vigilant. That’s the place Tolan talked about burning down with all those people..”

Ian wasn’t given much time to further inspect the exterior, as Loki continued on rather quickly. What he did catch sight of were piles of dust among clothes and what looked like demon hounds, with rotting skin and big steel collars.

They ascended up a flight of stone stairs past the hall. Something in the snow caught Loki’s attention. He dusted away the snow, discovering a burnt book. He flipped through the pages, finding nothing useful in them, just burnt away pages and unreadable text. Finally getting to the top of the stairs, he also noticed a torch on the ground. He picked it up and lightly touched the scorched bit. Loki recoiled his hand, feeling that it was freshly put out.

He showed the burnt out torch to Ian, “This is probably Tolan’s..”

Ian’s eyes narrowed, “Did he go in without us?”

Loki sighed, “No doubt..”. That damn vigilant.

The two looked into the dark abyss that was Dimhollow Crypt. “Ready?”, he asked Ian.

He nodded. The two elves entered the cave, leaving the wind to it’s own devices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Owo


	19. Awakening

As they wandered farther into Dimhollow Crypt, Ian slowly became more and more nervous. He unsheathed his staff, clutching it to his chest worryingly. He didn’t like the look, feel, smell.. he didn’t like anything about this place.

They traversed the cave farther, beginning to hear conversation ahead.

“These Vigilants never know when to give up. I thought we’d taught them enough of a lesson at their hall..”, a man’s voice echoed.

Loki ducked behind a stalagmite, pulling Ian beside him. The mage poked his head out to see what was happening. He could see a closed gate with a death hound chewing on an arm of some person’s sorts. He would pray to the nine that it wasn’t Tolan. Maybe he brought someone along and got by?..

“To come in here alone... a fool like all the rest of them”, a female vampire hissed.

“He fought well though. Jeron and Bresoth were no match for him..”, the vampire chuckled.

“Ha! Those two deserved what they got! Their arrogance had become insufferable.”

“All this talk is making me thirsty..”, the imperial vampire said, “Perhaps another Vigilant will wander in soon..”. He flicked a pebble at the woman. She shot him a quick glare before focusing back on her book.

“I wish Lokil would hurry it up. I have half a mind to return to the castle and tell Harkon what a fool he’s entrusted this mission to..”, she mumbled.

The male sneered at her, “And I have half a mind to tell Lokil of your disloyalty.”

“You wouldn’t dare. Now shut up and keep on watch!”, she growled at him.

Loki huffed. There were two vampires and a death hound. He could take them on himself, maybe as a beast. But not Ian. No, he hardly knows any fire based spells. On top of that, he wouldn’t have much of a chance against a death hound and their bites. He could tell Ian to stay where he is..

“Ok. Here’s the plan. You stay here, and I’ll go kill those monsters”, Loki said.

Ian gave him a ‘Really?’ look. “Why don’t we try to get past these guys without fighting them?”

Loki scoffed, “They wouldn’t let us pass. Besides, there would be way more ahead and I don’t want them to be alerted.”

“I’m not going to sit here and not help you. I joined you to fight by your side, not sit around and watch you get beat up!”, he hissed.

Loki groaned. “You got any better ideas? That dog up ahead can kill you with _one_ bite and you only know _one_ fire spell. We also have to find a lever to open that damn gate.”

Ian looked past the stalagmite, taking all paths into consideration. He’s not willing to add another body to his kill count when he still freezes up when he thinks of ‘Stoldar’. He turned back to Loki, “I may only know one spell from Skyrim. But I have a book full of spells tied to my staff!”. He motioned to the oversized splinter is his grasp. “I can disguise myself as one of them and stall them while you look for a lever.”

Loki held a conflicted expression. He opened his palm, igniting an invisibility spell, “Ok, but when I find that lever, you get out of there as soon as possible. Got it?”

Ian nodded. He watched Loki cast a spell of some sort over himself, turning invisible. The wizard’s grip on the staff hardened. ‘Disguising yourself is a lie, so you must tell the truth to get by...’, he heard Barley’s voice when he thought of the disguise spell. His eyes watered, but he rubbed them on his sleeve.

He rose to his feet, he thought of a vampire like those two. Pale skin, dark greasy hair, blood stained face.. “Ok.. _Illusio Facadis_.”

Ian felt hardly different from his usual self, but the soft glow he could see draped over his skin told him he was in a facade. He just hoped the guise will sway the vampires. He sheathed the staff and walked out to face them.

Immediately, he was put on edge by the canine growling lowly at him while he ripped tissue out of the arm that belonged to Tolan. He inwardly winced, but focused his attention on the vampires that were approaching.

“Who are you? Who sent you?”, the woman questioned with a scowl.

Ian stumbled on his words. He doesn’t know how to answer something like that. He also makes the worst liar.. he really didn’t think this one out...

“M-My companion and I came here on orders on our leader”, he stuttered. It wasn’t a full lie.. he never said which leader..

The male vampire cocked an eyebrow. “Where is this companion of your’s then? I would even hardly imagine Lord Harkon would only send two extra vampires..”

He then shared a glance with the woman, “Then again, Lord Harkon wouldn’t send extras here to begin with..”. Ian felt their gazes burn through him, as if they knew he wasn’t who he appeared to be.

The blue elf shook his head, “He had to relieve himself”, he felt a breeze hit his left hand, knowing that the blue dust had fallen away to reveal his true skin tone. He urgently hid it behind his back. _‘Shit..’_ , he thought to himself.

The two vampires looked at eachother, suspicion growing. “What exactly are we looking for here?”, he asked.

“I thought those idiots filled you in on what we’re looking for..”, she hissed. “We believe Lady Serana is hidden here. After four thousand years, the prophecy may finally come into play..”

“W-What? What prophecy?”, he asked. The canid monster rose to it’s haunches, stumbling over to Ian and trying to smell him. He stayed still, not wanting to give himself away nor provoke the beast.

The gate suddenly opened, startling Ian and the two vampires. The woman hissed at him, “Your companion seems to have found the lever to open the gate..”. Ian stumbled back, tripping backwards on Tolan’s mutilated body. He pushed himself up against a stone wall, cornered by the hound and two vampires. The female opened her palm, radiating a harsh red aura. The beast snarled as it waited for it’s masters to attack. The male vampire noticed that one of Ian’s hands were a pale blue in contrast to the grey skin of his other hand.

“It seems we found a Vigilant masquerading as a vampire. I told you another would run in-”, the masculine vampire was cut off by a white, transparent arrow shooting through his skull and killing him instantly. With the woman distracted by her companion’s demise, Ian drew his staff, pointing it at her.

“ _Boom-_...”, he couldn’t say it. Flashes of a burnt body flashed through his mind. The hound lunged at him, but it’s large and sharp maw was held at bay by his splinter when he used it to block the monster.

The woman snarled, pointing her palm outward at him-

“ _ **Wuld, Nah, Kest!**_ ”

She was cut off by a black sword impaling through her chest. It tore through the fabric of her apparel and slid out as fast as it went in. Loki shot a fire bolt at the beast, shoving it off of Ian and branding a giant scorch mark on it’s already blackened side. It hardly had a chance to get up and resume attacking before it’s skull was stomped in by the white haired elf.

Ian laid on the cold stone ground, not caring if dirt and vampire dust was getting in his hair. Loki kneeled at the older boy’s side, checking over him to see if he held any injuries. “No cuts? Bites? Did she cast vampiric drain on you?”, he continuously mothered Ian.

Ian was far too tired to answer his questions verbally, so he just shook his head. His muscles ached tremendously, but his heart was beating out of his chest. Loki pulled Ian’s head in his lap as he frantically searched through his alchemist satchel. Ian didn’t bother to open his eyes, he was so exhausted. But he did have a problem when a leathery texture was shoved into his mouth.

He spat the material out, “What the _hell_ , Loki?!”, he barked, attempting to get up, but was pulled back into the much stronger’s lap.

“Charred skeever hide! I can’t afford to have you catch any diseases, not when we’re out here far from the nearest healer!”, Loki responded.

Ian turned his head away from another chunk of the disgusting hide, earning a sigh from the other. “Fine. But if you end up having Sanguinare Vampiris, I’ll never forgive myself!”, he grumbled. Ian’s cheeks flushed pink lightly. Loki truly does care for the blue haired elf. He fished through his robes, pulling out a small green bottle. He opened the top and tilted it towards Ian’s mouth. “It’s a stamina potion. If we’re going to keep moving, you need to drink this”, Loki said sternly.

Ian accepted the potion, letting Loki pour the bottle’s contents into his maw. It was tart and bitter, but he didn’t want to reject his friend’s kindness further. Slowly, he felt his strength rebuild, and he could push himself off the ground.

Loki picked up Ian’s staff, holding it out for him to take. Giant bite marks were imbedded into the wood where the monster had a hold. He looked at the beast with a grimace, “What was that?”, he asked Loki as they began their way through the gates.

“Death hounds. They are a vampire’s best friend next to blood. If they bite you, you feel a horrible chill as bad as the grave”, Loki said. Ian looked down at the ground. He’s starting to feel rather bad for pushing him away when he just wanted to make sure he was ok..

His thumb grazed over the bite marks on the splinter. Those teeth could have been in his neck..

“And.. what was that spell you shouted before killing that vampire?”

Loki looked back, “Hmm?”

“The one where you yelled three words. They sounded like gibberish..”, he mumbled.

The young elf was about to say something, but shut his mouth quick. “I-I’ll tell you later, when we find out whatever the vampires are seeking..”

———

Ian shuddered, walking past the giant spider that was dispatched by Loki. The wizard had stayed back and observed the mage take down vampires, death hounds, spiders, and mummified zombies called ‘Draugr’. He had noticed a pattern with the younger’s movements when he attacks.

They strode past a door, but halted their movement when there was a conversation happening nearby.

“I'll never tell you anything, vampire. My oath to Stendarr is stronger than any suffering you can inflict on me!”, a man’s voice barked.

Loki looked at Ian and pressed a finger to his lips. They slowly moved closer to the balcony. Ian looked at the gargoyle statues, narrowing his eyes at the air around them.

“I believe you, Vigilant. And I don't think you even know what you've found here. So go and meet your beloved Stendarr..”, a vampire taunted before driving a sharp knife into his skull. Ian could hear the crack of his skull breaking before it was ripped back out.

“Are you sure that was wise, Lokil? He still might have told us something. We haven't gotten anywhere ourselves with...”, a female vampire trailed off.

Lokil scoffed at her, “He knew nothing. He served his purpose by leading us to this place. Now it is up to us to bring Harkon the prize. And we will not return without it. Vingalmo and Orthjolf will make way for me after this.”

“Yes, of course Lokil. Do not forget who brought you news of the Vigilants' discovery”, the woman responded to the red haired Nord.

“I never forget who my friends are. Or my enemies..”

The two walked away from the body and to a large platform over a bridge. By the time Loki and Ian stealthily made their way down the stairs, a pool of blood had formed around the body.

Loki flipped through a few pages of the book next to him, _‘This must be the Adalvald Tolan was talking about before he...’_ , his thoughts trailed off. He jumped when he heard Ian trip and fall behind him. Loki gasped, turning to see he had tripped on an old root jutting out of the floor. Ian’s own face was one of horror, knowing it caused a loud enough sound to alert the monsters.

“What was that?”, Lokil said. He casted a spell on a nearby skeleton, causing it to assemble from the pile of bones it once was and rise to it’s feet. Two blue flames alighted in it’s sockets as it grabbed a rusted sword from the ground.

Ian was pushed behind a big pot that held little more than a dead bush and soil. “W-What?..”

The Mer left to confront the menaces, glaring defensively at the approaching figures as he lit up his hands in fire.

The following fight ensued, with Loki ducking under the sword, kicking the female vampire in the abdomen, and firing a fire bolt at Lokithur. He cried out in pain, trying to pat out the fire burning on his clothes while the Dunmer hybrid fought off the other two.

Ian thought of his options. Loki looks like he’s managing, but what if he gets really hurt while he stands by and watches. He could get killed! But what if he joins and ends up hurting himself or Loki. He’ll just have to find out..

He ran out from his hiding space. “ _Paralos!_ ”, he chanted, jabbing forward with his staff at the woman. She foresaw his attack and narrowly dodged it striking her chest. She lunged at him, swiping her claw-like nails at him. He felt a sharp pain on his cheek as he jumped back to block her attacks. In the squabble, his staff was knocked out of his hands, far to the other side of the bridge where it nearly threatened to fall off. “No!”, he cried, distracting himself from his attacker.

He was harshly pushed onto the ground, pinned underneath the woman. She wrapped her bony hands around his throat in an effort to choke him. Ian choked out, unable to push the surprisingly strong vampire off of him. It didn’t help him that her sharp nails were digging into his neck and drawing blood.

The wizard then remembered that while he may not have his staff, he does have his own hands. He points his non-occupied palm towards her face and releases a plume of fire at her. She screamed as she let him go to tend to her face that is still in flames. She jumped off of the bridge and into the cold water below in a desperate act of putting out the flames that burnt away her hair and torched her face. He weakly sat up, caressing his bruised neck as he witnessed the last of Loki’s fight. He shredded Lokil’s head from his body, sending it tumbling down into the icy waters alongside the floating body of the female vampire and a few bones.

Loki ran to Ian immediately ran over to the older boy, kneeling down to inspect his neck and grazing his fingers along the bruises and cuts gently. He showed nothing but concern for Ian, “Ian. Your cheek..”, he said softly. He brushed his thumb along his cheekbone, wiping the blood away to see the very small scratch marks that the woman inflicted on the bluenette.

“I-It’s nothing..”, Ian mumbled.

“Hold on..”, Loki held his head in his hands, causing a soft golden aura to envelop his hands and Ian’s face. The blue haired elf didn’t pull away, not when it felt warm and comforting. He closed his eyes blissfully. The sting and throbbing on his cheek and neck fizzled away along with his anxieties.

When Loki retracted his gloved hands from the older’s face, Ian leaned forward slightly, craving that feeling. He heard a soft chuckle from Loki, he opened his brown eyes, sighing. “Was that a healing spell?”, he asked.

Loki hummed, standing up. He held his hand out for Ian to take. He was pulled up onto his feet, stumbling a little. He felt his face, only feeling a sore spot where the bloody scratch once was. “Could I learn this spell?”

As Ian went to go retrieve his staff, Loki shrugged his shoulders, “You’re still a novice. Maybe the next time we visit a city I’ll get you healing hands”. Ian hummed, placing the staff in it’s proper place. Loki looked at him with concern, “Are you sure your ok? Those were nasty bruises.”

He chuckled, feeling his neck, “I’m fine, just a little stunned that I could have died..”

As they crossed the bridge, Loki rolled his eyes, “Like I said before, I would have not let that happen had that vampire bastard not been as good with a knife as I thought.”

Ian softly chuckled. They walked to the center of the chamber, where a button sat in the middle of the platform. Loki approached it, pressing the button. A spike impaled his hand, causing him to cry out in pain. “Loki!”, Ian cried. He was about to run over when the spike retracted back into the button, activating a mechanism of some sort. The braisers surrounding the platform lit up with a bright purple flame as a violet aura glowed along the intricate designs of the floor.

Loki rubbed his palm, “Oww..”

“A-Are you ok? Can you use your hand?”, Ian urgently questioned.

The elf chuckled, “I’m fine, worse had happened to me..”, he trailed off. He brushed his hand along the carvings of the floor, then gazing at the braisers. He walked over to the stand and pushed it towards the purple light emanating from the floor. A rumble echoed throughout the chamber as the bright light moved to another portion of the platform.

As Loki continued to move the braisers and cause the chamber to rumble, Ian fidgeted with his hands. _‘What the hell is he doing’_?

When he moved the last braiser, having went full circle around the platform, the center of the area opened up, sending all the braisers back as a monolith rose out of the floor.

The two shared looks at eachother before Loki walked forward and touched the monolith. It suddenly opened to reveal a woman inside.

Loki jumped back when she fell forward, half awake. She stumbled, but caught herself before face planting into the stone floor. She stood, rubbing her eyes. When she opened them, they flashed a bright orange that cause Ian to shift behind his friend. “Unh... where is... who sent you here?”, she asked warily.

The mage cocked an eyebrow, “Who were you expecting?”, he asked.

“I was expecting someone... like me, at least.”

Ian further hid behind his friend. Every vampire they had encountered up to this point was a dangerous, blood-thirsty monster. How long until she attacks?

“Are you a...”, The sixteen year old trailed off.

She cut him off, “Vampire, yes.”

Loki’s pierced ear twitched. “Why were you locked away like this?”, he asked.

“That's... complicated. And I'm not totally sure if I can trust you. But if you want to know the whole story, help me get back to my family's home.”

Ian peered over Loki’s shoulder, getting a better glimpse at the woman. She didn’t look to be any older than her early twenties, but he could make a good guess she was much older than he and Loki combined.

The taller male weighed his options. What if she has good intentions and isn’t going to attack them with her coven the minute they bring her home? “Where do you need to go?”, he asked.

The woman smiled, “My family used to live on an island to the west of Solitude. I would guess they still do”. She offered a hand for him to shake, “By the way, my name is Serana. Good to meet you.”

He shook her hand, smiling back, “I’m Loki..”, he moved out of the way for his companion, “..And this is Ian!”

Ian shyly waved. Loki looked around, seeing no real other exits other than the way they came and a small passage behind the platform they were on. “Any idea how to get out of here?”, he asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine. This place looks pretty different from when I was locked away..”, Serana mumbled.

Loki hummed. He walked towards the small bridge on the other side of the area, with the vampire and the older elf following.

They came to a small slope that led up to a stone brick shelter, “This looks like the right way. I was starting to get worried”, Serana said.

As they walked through the shelter and through a door, curiosity got the best of Ian, “How long were you locked away?”

The raven haired female turned her gaze to Ian, “Good question. Hard to say. I... I can't really tell. I feel like it was a long time. Who is Skyrim's High King?”, she asked.

Ian was about to tell her that he doesn’t exactly know. He’s only been free for a week, maybe more. But Loki spoke for him, “That's actually a matter of debate!”

“Oh, wonderful. A war of succession. Good to know the world didn't get boring while I was gone”, she humorously stated. “Who are the contenders?”

“Elisif of Solitude will be High Queen”, he responded, casually kicking a small pebble as they continued through the hall, into a smaller chamber with coffins placed here and there. Ian deeply hoped they wouldn’t erupt with Draugr.

“I don't know that name. You say she's Jarl of Solitude? Who supports her?”

“The Empire supports Ellisif, but there were many in Skyrim loyal to Ulfric Stormcloak.”

Serana held a puzzled look, “Empire? What... what Empire?”

Loki picked up a book, ‘Necromantic Healing’. He looked back at her with shocked eyes, “The... the Empire. From Cyrodiil..”, he said, flabbergasted.

Serana’s own face was frozen, “Cyrodiil is the seat of an empire? I must have been gone longer than I thought. Definitely longer than we planned. Please, let's hurry. I need to get home so I can figure out what's happened.”

“Will do!”, Loki responded, stuffing the book away in his robes, along with a few gems and jewelry he found in a chest.

Ian cocked an eyebrow as Loki ascended a flight of stairs to a lever, “Isn’t that a little disrespectful towards the dead?”

He looked down at Ian with his hands firmly set on the lever, “Huh?..”

“The jewels and stuff you took..”

Loki scoffed, rolling his eyes, “They’re dead! What’re they gonna do?”, he said, pulling the lever and opening a gate that leads to another room.

In that moment, three coffins bursted open, with Draugr walking out with weapons. Ian shot a quick glare at Loki before drawing his staff.

Serana jumped back, both hands wielding an icy aura to them, and shot out a few sets of ice spikes at them, injuring one and killing another. Loki ran forward with his sword in hand to dispatch the unharmed undead.

It was over rather quick, with all three undead on the floor or stuck into the wall. Ian warily sheathed his splinter and followed the other two into yet another chamber, yet this one had an eerie feel to it.

A few skeletons rose from stone chairs, wielding swords and spells in their hands. A singular Draugr rose at the far end of the chamber, but was much taller and stronger than all other undead Ian had encountered. 

The helmeted Draugr pointed a sword at the three, speaking some intelligible language. Immediately, the skeletons charged at the three.

“Fight the skeletons! Let me deal with the Deathlord!”, Loki called to them before dashing off to fight the Draugr.

Loki slashed at the undead, cutting into it’s abdomen with his ebony sword. The draugr responded with an irritated growl before slashing at the poorly armored elf with his own ebony blade. It barely missed him as he jumped back to avoid a gorey fate. He shot a fire bolt at the draugr, but it mattered little. The monster ran through the flames and pummeled into Loki, sending them tumbling down near the fire. In the process, his sword was dropped while the dark elf and the undead brawled below.

Loki kneed the Deathlord in the jaw, hearing it’s teeth shatter and jawbone crack. He was suddenly grabbed by the throat and pinned to the ground. The enraged draugr glared down at the youth. “Dir Faaz..!”, it snarled. Loki would retort back in the dragon tongue, but his throat was being pressured to the point he can hardly breathe.

The undead raised it’s sword, ready to strike the youth’s heart, but Loki pulled out the dagger from his boot and stabbed it’s wrist that held him down. The Draugr recoiled, but made a fatal mistake in the process.

“ _ **Yol, Toor, Shul!**_ ”, Loki shouted. A firey inferno erupted from his maw, burning the Deathlord to a crisp.

Ian swung his staff at the skeleton, throwing it back into the firey pit Loki and the draugr were fighting. He jumped down to go to his friend, who was weakly standing up to grab his sword.

“You ok?”, he asked.

Loki looked over to him, “Of course. I’m not even winded!”, he said. He stood up, but focused his sights on a wall carved with symbols and scratchings of sorts. He walked over, trailing his hand over one of the carvings. He took a deep breath in, and sighed. 

_**Lah...** _

Ian and Serana walked over, both confused. Loki took a few steps back from the wall, “It’s a word wall. It’s where I learn about the different shouts I can use”, he informed, fixing his hair that was messed up during the fight.

They continue through another gate, but a light glowed through an opening ahead. A way out! “Finally...”, Ian mumbled to himself. That last fight was a close call..

Upon exiting the cave, Serana threw a hood over her head, she breathed in the cold winds of Skyrim. “Feels good to finally be out of that cave..”, she said softly.

Loki pulled out his map, marking a small area west of Solitude with a charcoal stick. “Ok. If we go get our horses and keep going nonstop, we could reach your family’s home in a couple days..”, he mumbled.

“As long as we get there safely, I’m fine with any route”, she responded, looking around at all the snow, bushes, and trees.

He rolled up his map, “Then let’s be on with it, then!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m going to take a break from this story (Probably why the chapter is _so damn long_ ). It shouldn’t be too long, just enough for me to regain the passion for this story, which wouldn’t be long since I love these two bois ;w;
> 
> 4,488 words, roughly quadrupled-twice the normal chapters I post.


	20. Missing

Barley sat down on his baby brother’s bed, his missing baby brother’s bed. It has been nearly a month since Ian had disappeared into thin air.

_‘This could be a kidnapping, but this evidence looks like nothing I have ever seen before..’_ Officer Specter listed as she talked to Colt earlier that week. The whole place was cleaned up of the oily residue that was left behind, and sent to be tested for any traces of DNA, along with the few drops of blood that could very well be Ian’s. It was only a couple days ago that they were allowed to enter Ian’s room. Barley glared at the heavy book he held in his pale hands. This wretched thing could be the very cause of his disappearance. Could? He _knows_ this book has something to do with Ian. This book was flipped to a ‘novice’ portal spell the day Ian went missing, which could explain what happened. But where did he go? Why did he leave without telling Barley? Is this the older elf’s fault? Was he bored of the quests they did now, going around and exploring the same forests, the same caverns?

He shut his eyes tightly as those thoughts swarmed his head. He’s heard them so much, and he is so tired of not having the answer to them. He just wants to see Ian again, in front of him, and smiling as if nothing ever happened. But when he opens his eyes, he only sees the empty room, only inhabited by him. Barley looked back down at the book. He never took in the design of the magic book until now. The cover is a dark green, with the spine an even darker and uglier shade. As he traced his thumb over the leather hardcover, he noticed the intricate tentacles sprawled faintly throughout the dark green leather. He retracted his thumb, rubbing it against his index finger. The cover- no, the book itself feels.. wrong, in a way. He just can’t put his finger on it.

He needs to think. Not here, where the overwhelming stillness in the air can suffocate a man. Barley holds the heavy book under his arm as he left the room. He looked back at everything as if something changed while he was in there. Maybe he still half expects Ian to be in there, following after his big brother like he always has.

The blue haired elf sighed, closing the door behind him as he treaded downstairs, where he was greeted by Blazey. The dragon happily barked, if not a little confused on why Ian still isn’t home yet. Barley patted her gently on the head, “I’ll be back in a little bit, girl. Watch mom while I’m gone..” he muttered as he looked in the direction of the kitchen, where he could hear Laurel cooking dinner. He knows how much this hurts her, as she is not nearly as lively since Ian went missing. She’s not neglectful, far from it! She just doesn’t smile or laugh anymore. She hardly even speaks unless she needs to.. He has seen this before.. when dad died. He hardly remembers anything other than her becoming a shell of who she once was, and it took a long time until she returned to being truly happy and outgoing. _‘At least she has more people to cope with now, not just me..’_ Barley thought to himself before leaving the house.

The elf walked over to Guinevere the second, sparing a glance at the paintjob on the side. As he pulled out of the driveway with the orangish-yellow van, he drove onto the route leading to a cliff side. He always goes there when he needs time to himself or just watch the sunrise. He has brought Ian with him a couple times, where they will climb to the top of Guinevere and watch the dawn stretch over New Mushroomton. This time, however, he would be watching the sunset instead. Alone. He grabbed the book where he dropped it in the passenger seat, and left the van upon stopping at the cliff side. He shut the door as he climbed to the top of his four wheeled steed. 

As the sun barely peaked over the mountains, he opened the book to the first page. He has read through this damned book many times. If it didn’t have a role in Ian’s disappearance, he would be much more fascinated in a positive light. It has so many spells that he wasn’t even aware were possible. The ability to summon beasts at your command, create storms of fire and ice. Hell, there are _multiple_ resurrection spells that are nothing like the one his father wrote, where one can make a dead body their own undead servant. Then again, the bodies used are fresh corpses, and become nothing more than mindless thralls with no compassion and are purely motivated by blind loyalty. Barley flipped to the page that Ian could have attempted. The illustration was.. off putting, to say the least. Tendrils circling the frame of the demonstration with more of the black, slimy tentacles reaching out towards the mage conjuring the portal. Could have Ian been taken by these tendrils? Who do they belong to? He read through the chant’s strange foreign language. Is this book pertaining to dark magic? It seems that way, as most who practice this side of magic usually face lethal consequences should they mess up a spell or abuse the power that comes with it.

Barley’s heart tightened. If Ian was attempting dark magic without any warning or proper supervision, he could have been taken to a dark void, or eaten by the owner of those black, slimy tendrils, or..

He dug his nails into the book’s hardcover, no doubt leaving marks. Is his baby brother even still alive? Barley wanted to scream at this book, demand what it did to his brother, but even he knows that he wouldn’t get an answer from it. Only crickets and the faint car horns below would answer his anger and hurt. He shut the book roughly before setting it down next to him.

The blue haired male laid back on the roof of Guinevere, looking up at the stars that are beginning to litter the sky. When he was much younger, he would crawl onto the roof with Ian and watch the stars above. He remembers how they would make bets on how many of the bright dots are in the sky, and whoever could count more was deemed smarter. He would then purposefully let Ian win, saying that he counted a little under Ian’s guess.

Even here Barley is getting choked up thinking about his baby brother. He wishes he could cast magic, just so he could use the spells written in the tome and go after Ian. He raised his hands up to see them in the moon illuminated light. Pale blue hands with the occasional bandaid and scrape. He glared at them, these hands will never be conduits for magic. They will never be of any use in the arcane arts, only useful of picking up stuff and feeling around.

He flopped his magically useless hands by his side, hearing a _thump_ against Guinevere’s metal roof. Don’t mistake his desire for the gift as being resentful of Ian. The older Lightfoot brother is more than proud of his brother that he has the ability to channel magic, and he is even more prideful knowing that everything the younger elf knows is because of his mentoring.

He just wished.. that he could do more to help. So far, all he has been able to do is bring this magic tome to the police and make magic tampering a suspect in what has happened. His staff is also missing, so that is even more incriminating of the arcane arts playing a part. Of course, you can’t exactly interrogate a book, so while the elder brother has brought up the possibility of magic as a suspect, it doesn’t pinpoint to where Ian is, or even if he is still alive.

Barley sat up. He knows Ian is alive. He just feels it in his gut. There is yet hope for the sixteen year old. Barley just hopes that wherever his baby brother is, he is doing ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so I’m back :)
> 
> Sorry that the chapter’s a little short, since I’m slowly trying to get back into writing chapters again. I’m also sorry for being gone as long as I was ;w;
> 
> I figured that I should occasionally do a chapter on what’s happening back in Yore, so I hoped you enjoyed a bit of Barley while I work on chapter 21


	21. Castle Volkihar

Ian and Loki looked up at the tall castle looming over them. The silhouettes of large birds circled above them, occasionally flying in front of the full moons stranded in the sky. The knowlage of what is inside Castle Volkihar unsettled the blue haired elf further. As he followed Loki and Serana across the bridge, he rubbed his clothed arms in an attempt to reassure himself. Serana wouldn’t kill them after being helped along all this way, right?

Serana reached her hand forward onto Loki’s shoulder, stopping him. The white elf turned to face her concerned gaze. “Hey, so... before we go in there...” she started, a little unsure on what to tell him.

“Are you ok?” Loki asks.

The vampire nods softly, “I think so. And thanks for asking,” she responds, letting a very faint smile show, “I wanted to thank you for getting me this far. But after we get in there, I'm going to go my own way for a while. I think...” While she talked to Loki, Ian walked forward a little to where he stood next to his friend. Serana continued, “I know your friends would probably want to kill everything in here. I'm hoping you can show some more control than that. Once we're inside, just keep quiet for a bit. Let me take the lead.”

Loki nodded, letting the raven haired woman walk forward. Ian looked over to the younger elf. He looked much less nervous about this place. While they followed Serana, he leaned over a little and whispers in a hushed tone, “Why are you so calm about this?..”

The white haired elf turned his head, humming in question, “What do you mean?”, he questions. His voice is less hushed. He knows that Serana could hear the conversation if she pleases, something that Ian doesn’t know.

“I mean.. we’re about to walk into a castle full of vampires. And very possibly _hungry_ vampires. Who’s to say we won’t become dinner the minute we go in there?..”

Loki looked forward at Serana while the gate in front of them opened. He smiled reassuringly, “I’m sure this place isn’t that much different from the usual coven I will stumble into while exploring caves” he hums as they follow Serana past the sturdy gate. “Besides, I trust Serana,” he smiled. His large canines stood out to Ian, almost wolfish in a way. He hadn’t noticed it before, which is odd considering Loki has smiled at him many times before.

Ian kept close to Loki as they walked into Castle Volkihar. The large doors shut behind the three. An elven vampire walked into the entrance room. Immediately, his angular face contorted angrily upon seeing three strangers in the castle. “How dare you trespass here!” He exclaimed. Upon Serana removing the hood that concealed her face, he halted in his tracks. “Wait... Serana? Is that truly you?” the vampire questioned. Serana nodded shyly in response. He grinned widely, showing off his sharp teeth, “I cannot believe my eyes!”

He walked over to the stairs, “My lord! Everyone! Serana has returned!” He called out.

“Guess I’m expected..” Serana mumbled as she was motioned to follow the elven vampire. Loki and Ian continue to follow when she looks back to see if they are still there.

Once Loki got a good look at the dining hall, his eyes widened at the sheer numbers and organization of the place. If he hadn’t known better, he would mistake the vampires for being simply cannibalistic nobles. “Ok, this is very different from other covens..” he mumbled to himself, only being heard by Ian. The older elf’s nerves stood on edge more.

As the three walked down the flight of stairs leading to the dining hall, a tall and intimidating vampire walked down from where the main table was situated. This one was vastly different from the other blood sucking monsters in the hall. He held a much stronger air around him, one much stronger than Loki is comfortable with. He grinned once he saw Serana, “My long-lost daughter returns at last,” he chimes, although it felt somewhat distracted, as his attention was more focused on the Elder Scroll fastened onto her back, “I trust you have my Elder Scroll?” he questions his daughter.

Loki narrows his eyes slightly, _‘So this is Serana’s father?..’_ he thought to himself as his ear twitched, _‘Sheesh..’_

“After all these years, that's the first thing you ask me?” the vampiress queries, her voice hinted a bit of hurt. She sighs as she unfastens the heavy Elder Scroll from her back and holds it out for the male vampire to see, “..Yes, I have the scroll.”

A couple of the inhabitants of the castle gasp lightly upon seeing the powerful relic, some whispering, “She has the scroll!”

Upon descending the small flight of stairs, Ian got a better look of the dining hall, although he partly wished he hadn’t. There are two dining tables loaded with platters of bloody chunks of flesh, human, what he assumes. And with every platter, there are goblets stained and smeared with the crimson liquid. A few bloody bones are scattered along the long decorative rug that lines the center of the hall while one of those death hound monsters chewed contently on a femur bone. That isn’t what horrified Ian though. A human is laid out on each table, littered with bites and blood smears as the monsters feed on them. They moan and groan in pain as their life essence is drained from them. And their eyes.. they are empty and thoughtless, as if all their humanity has been stripped from them, leaving them little more than livestock.

Ian rubbed his arms when he saw one of the pale creatures bite into their wrist, causing a sharp, pricking sound when their fangs tear through scarred skin. The blue haired elf forced his gaze to the floor, keeping his eyes trained on either his or Loki’s boots, anything to steer his attention away from the livestock being fed on casually, as if they are just capsules for blood and not living beings in pain.

Serana’s father put up a hand in small submission to the smaller figure, “Of course I'm delighted to see you, my daughter. Must I really say the words aloud?” He questions her. “Ah.. if only your traitor mother were here, I would let her watch this reunion before putting her head on a _spike_ ,” the raven haired vampire hissed, putting small emphasis at the end, which caused Ian to flinch at his sudden hostility. His bright orange optics flicked over to the two elves standing not far behind his daughter. One was keeping his doe eyed features to the ground, while the other stood his ground and held his wariness focused on every possible danger in the hall. In his eyes, one was a threat and the other was prey. “Now tell me, who are these strangers you have brought into our hall?” He asks as he raised his pale hand, motioning towards Ian and Loki.

Ian looked up for a second, meeting the gaze of the vampire before his eyes shot right back down. “These are my saviors, the ones who freed me,” Serana spoke for the two before Loki says something stupid.

Her father nodded. He turned towards the two, “For my daughter's safe return, you both have my gratitude. Tell me, what are your names?”

“I’m Loki, and this is my companion, Ian.” Loki motioned a hand to himself, then to the much quieter and wary elf. “Who are you?”

“I am Harkon, lord of this court. By now, my daughter will have told you what we are,” Harkon told the hybrid.

“You’re vampires,” Loki responded rather bluntly as he looked around briefly to mentally count how many of the monsters are in the hall. He counts about ten vampires aside from Serana and her father. It normally wouldn’t be a big deal for him to fight his way out should things go south, but considering he is also fighting for the elven boy he is smitten with, it would be much more difficult to get both of them out in one piece. He has also taken into consideration that these vampires are unlike the leeches skulking around caves and abandoned fortresses.

“Not just vampires. We are among the oldest and most powerful vampires in Skyrim,” Harkon clarifies. He continues, pacing around slowly, making the two on slight edge as the dining hall started to quiet down, “For centuries we lived here, far from the cares of the world. All that ended when my wife betrayed me and stole away that which I valued most.”

“So..” Loki hums. Ian shifts a little closer to his friend. The air has become cold and the only sounds are the breathing of the two death hounds and their long claws scraping against the stone floor. “..What happens now?...”

“You have done me a great service, and now you must be rewarded,” Harkon says. Ian felt his stomach drop at the term _‘rewarded’_. What could the vampire possibly reward them with that isn’t related to their blood? “There is but one gift I can give that is equal in value to the Elder Scroll and my daughter. I offer you my blood. Take it, and you will walk as a lion among sheep. Men will tremble at your approach, and you will never fear death again.”

Loki’s eyes widened. Turn them into vampires? Blood desperate, sun fearing monsters? He narrowed his eyes. “I’m..” he looked to Ian, who gave him a quizzical look. He exhaled softly, “I’m a werewolf. What will happen should I accept your gift?”

Ian’s brows knitted. What is a _werewolf_ , and why was Loki so hesitant on revealing it? Sure, there are scary movies and campfire stories about were _dragons_. Barley has told him such stories when they were young, but those were myths about people who went crazy and committed cannibalism.

Harkon nodded. He wore a face of both disgust and annoyance, “Yes, I can smell it on you,” he confirmed, “The power of my blood will purge that filth and make you whole again.”

“ _‘Filth’_?” Loki growled suddenly, causing Ian to flinch. “At least I can walk around d-”

Ian shook his friend’s shoulder to snap him out of retorting back, the older mage shot him a look to stop while he’s ahead. Harkon let a very small grin tug at the corners of his mouth, “Perhaps you still need convincing?” He laughed lowly, “-Behold the power!”

The lord suddenly lurches forward, growling very lowly to where only Loki had heard it. His body flushed black before a grey bat-like creature erupted out of his skin. Bits of flesh and blood flew in every direction as the creature screeched. Loki put his arm out in front of Ian protectively. The mage could feel his heart start to swell and burn. If he weren’t so focused on keeping Ian and himself safe, he would have visably shown discomfort of his burning chest. His wings opened up as the vampire lord took a step forward, “This is the power that I offer! Now, make your choice..”

Loki glared at Lord Harkon, “We will not become vampires! I refuse your gift!” The mage exclaimed. Most of the vampires in the court narrowed their harsh gaze at the two, while some simply went back to their meals. Serana sighed and looked off to the side.

“So be it..” Harkon growls. The vampire started to levitate a couple feet from the ground as a red aura glowed by his clawed feet. “You are prey, like all mortals-” he points a clawed finger at the two, “-I banish you!”

Harkon summons a dark blue-ish purple ball of energy in his palm, and flung the spell at the elves. Both Ian and Loki’s vision went black in an instant.


	22. Masser

The first thing that came to Ian’s mind when he awoke was how bloody cold he was. He opened his brown eyes, seeing only the dark sky above and the two moons. He sat up, rubbing his temple where he felt sore. What happened? What spell did Harkon cast on them? What do they do now? He has so many questions that only Loki could probably answer.

A sharp whistle caught the blue haired mage’s attention. Speaking of Loki..

His friend sat on a rock, waiting near the boat that carried them here. He fumbled with a flickering light in his gloved hands. “So, that happened.” Loki said to Ian as the older elf rose shakily to his feet.

Ian rubbed his head again as he approached the hybrid, “What happened when I blacked out?” He questioned.

“ _We_ blacked out,” Loki corrected as the bright light began to die out in his palm, “Harkon probably used a teleportation spell that morphed us outside. Considering it was a strong spell, it knocked us out in the process.”

Ian hummed. He looked towards the boat, “What do you think we should do from here?”

The Dunmer mage looked up at the sky, “It’s super late, and it’s been a while since we slept in a nice bed..” he mumbled. “We should stay in Solitude for the night. I have a house there, so we won’t need to spend septims on an inn’s bed,” he responds. Loki stood, stretching his back for a second before walking over to the boat and getting in.

Ian narrowed his eyes in confusion as he prepared to step in the boat. “You have a house? I didn’t think you were the kind of person to own one..-” Ian’s foot slipped on the wet rocks as he clumsily tried to step into the boat. Before he would hit his face on the wood and no doubt break his nose, Loki caught him.

Loki chuckled, a faint blush tinted his pale features. With it being cold, it is easy to mistake attraction-based blushing for the cold causing his face to go red. That was one thing Loki somewhat appreciated the freezing winds of Skyrim for. “Careful! Don’t want to hurt yourself!..” he helped his friend sit down while Ian still warily clung to his robes.

Ian let go when he was sure he wouldn’t stumble on anything. He looked up at the Dunmer-hybrid, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. He cleared his throat as he looked to the side, “Thanks..” he softly said as the mage sat across from him. His Imperial pin glinting as the moonlight shone off of it. When Ian noticed Loki grab the oars and push the boat away from the shore, he raised his hand to the oars slightly. “D-do you need any help?..” he stutters.

Loki shook his head smiling, “I’m good with doing it myself.”

Ian nodded. He rested his chin on his hand as he lifted the hood up over his head. His ears made it a little difficult. The blue elf looked out over the freezing waters before his eyes wandered up to the two moons. Secunda and Masser, as Loki had told him. They were both bright and full, reminding him of what Loki said he was. “What’s a werewolf?” He suddenly asked.

Loki’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes widened. “Oh..” he started as he kept rowing, although it was a bit sloppy as he looked down. “I wanted to wait much later to tell you what I am..”

He cleared his throat after a moment of silence. “You remember when I told you more about the Nine Divines and the Daedric Pantheon on the way here?” He asked his fellow mage. Ian nodded. He continued, “-And remember the Daedric Prince, Hircine?”

“‘The Prince of the Hunt’ as you called him?”

He nodded. “Yeah. He is also the creator of therianthropy, most notably lycanthropy.. werewolves..” he sighed. He stops rowing the boat to take a break. “I know that you know what a wolf is, considering.. you were nearly mauled by one.”

Ian rolls up his robe’s sleeve on his arm. It has been a while since he looked at it. Now, it is a faded, pink scar that only reminds him of those teeth as the beast closed in on him. He rubbed his thumb over the pink scar, “It probably would have become infected if you hadn’t saved me and brought me to Danica Pure-Spring.” Ian smiled at Loki as he rolled the sleeve back down, “I’ll always be in debt to you for that..”

Loki waved a hand dismissively, “Well, I am pretty amazing!” He hummed boastfully, invoking a chuckle out of Ian.

The blue haired mage shook his head, “Go on more about werewolves. Are they like the weredragons in old Yore folktales?” Ian queries.

The Dunmer hybrid spared a confused glance before his eyes widen, “Oh- I forgot that dragons from your world have been degraded to dogs with scales,” he snickered. “What are weredragons like?”

Ian shrugged, “According to the stories, every full two moons, a person will turn into a wolf dragon. They are considered dangerous beasts that can fly, breathe fire.. and have a bloodlust towards anything that moves,” the mage added.

Loki leaned back against the rim of the boat, silently thanking Kynareth- or any of the Nine for that matter, for letting the water’s currents carry them closer to the shore so he wouldn’t have to row the boat. “You’re pretty close with that description, except werewolves don’t breathe fire or fly..” he looked up at the night sky, “..As much as I wish I could fly.”

Ian’s ear twitched. “How come you haven’t turned into one yet?” He pointed up at the full moons.

Loki looked back down to meet Ian’s gaze, “Some therianthropes, like wereboars, are forced into transforming on a full Masser. That can also apply to werewolves, but I have been afflicted for..” he stopped to count in his head. “..About three to four years. I grew up around others with wolf blood too, so I’ve been able to control my transformations.”

Ian stayed silent. Loki’s eyes widened, “Please, don’t be afraid of me..” he reached out his gloved hand, “I wouldn’t ever hurt you, Ian. You know that, r-right?..” his voice slightly quivered in his throat.

The blue elf nodded, “It’s not that I’m afraid. I just..” he chuckled softly, glancing at every single feature on Loki, from his concerned face to his thin but lean figure. “I don’t think I would have ever imagined you to be a lycanthrope.”

Loki exhaled a breath of built up tension as his tense shoulders relaxed. “Compared to other werewolves throughout Tamriel, I’m much more thin than them, but it has always been my most lethal weapon if my blade and magic fail me,” he chuckled. “I.. have been afraid to tell you since we started traveling together. I didn’t want you to become fearful of me because of my condition.”

The boat gently hit the small, rotted, wooden dock on the shore. Loki carefully stood, offering his hand to Ian as he stepped out onto the wooden platform. The mage took his hand, allowing himself to be hoisted up and out of the boat.

Ian softly sighed as he made it onto dry land, “Loki..” he said. Loki looked up from the map where he marked down the capital of Skyrim. “You have saved me from ruthless bandits, taken me along as your companion, you’re even teaching me Tamrielan magic,” he added, holding out his palm and igniting a weak, but solid flame. He waved his hand to put out the arcane fire he has yet to master. He smiled wholeheartedly, “From the beginning, you have been kind and selfless for my safety, and not once had you ever hurt me out of malice. I have no reason to think you would hurt me now.”

Loki grinned warmly, feeling his ears tint a very faint pink. He was tempted to tell him the reason why he fonds over the elf so much is because of the love-struck attraction that has him by the heart. “Well duh..” _‘-I love you, you adorable goof-’_ , “..You’re my dear friend, Ian. Your friendship is something special, and I’d never forgive myself if it was shattered,” he hummed, invoking a blush from the youngest Lightfoot. He pointed to Solitude on the map, “It is a thirty minute walk to the front gates, if we are brisk in our walk.”

Ian smiled, nodding as Loki rolled up the marked up paper and started the trek to Solitude.

While they walked on the faint path through the wilderness, curiosity struck Ian on the capital. On the way to Castle Volkihar, Ian had a glimpse of the huge gates and a few of the guards standing straight and still. He looked over to his friend, who was obviously thinking about something. What it was, the curly haired elf had no idea. “So, what’s Solitude like?” Loki looked over to his companion, “Is it anything like Whiterun?”

Loki smiled, “It’s bigger and more organized. The guards are more focused too, unlike the ones in Whiterun,” he recalled. “And since Solitude is also a big port city, a lot of goods from other provinces of Tamriel are pulled in by the East Empire Company.”

Ian hummed. He kicked a small pebble forward as he stuffed his hands into the outer pockets of his robes, “What are the people like?”

The younger mage scoffed, “There’s a handful of snobby, bitter asshats seated there. They won’t mess with you unless you talk to them, though,” he snickered, “That doesn’t stop me from getting into quarrels with one of the thanes.”

Ian tilted his head slightly, “A thane?”

“A thane is a special title, given by the jarl of the hold to a person of great importance in the city,” Loki clarifies. He then points his thumb at himself, “I just so happen to be a thane in Solitude and Whiterun,” the white haired elf brags.

Ian rolls his eyes playfully, “Ok Mr. Thane, what should we do in the morning?”

“Definitely stock up on necessities and start the trek back to Fort Dawnguard. Isran will be waiting for us,” Loki responds. “On the way back, you should read those other two books, Healing and Candlelight I believe they are!”

Ian nodded as he pulled one of the books out of his robes. An orange hardcover with a tree plastered on the middle. He showed it to his companion, “Is this Restoration? It has a half dead tree, half alive tree.”

Loki shook his head, “No, that’s Alteration. The tree represents the physical world and how it is manipulated,” he responds as he taps the two halves with his index finger.

“And you said it was ‘Candlelight’? What’s that supposed to be?”

The Dunmeri mage held out his palm, where a bright light materialized in his hand. He then clean he’d his fist before opening it. A small mixture between a crack and a pop sound was made as the ball of light moved to hover over his head where it stayed as he continues walking by Ian’s side. Ian’s eyes widened. Loki chuckled softly, “It works as a torch, except it doesn’t need to be carried around.”

Ian looked down at the book in his hands, “It works a little like my staff’s _Lufiia_ ,” he said softly. He stashes the book away into his robes as he follows his friend through the cold forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it’s been a while from when I played Skyrim, I don’t remember if Loki was a thane of any other cities, but for the sake of keeping him from becoming OP, he’s only the thane of Whiterun and Solitude.


	23. Solitude

The large gates of Solitude closed behind the two mages. Colorful banners rest along the many buildings as Ian observed the gorgeous city from where he was standing. Loki wasn’t joking when he said Solitude is gorgeous, even at night.

The Mer in question took Ian’s hand, “This is only the marketplace! From how everyone is still out and about, it must be the Fire Festival tonight!”

As Loki led Ian through the busy marketplace, his boots’ heels clacked against the stone bricked ground, “The Fire Festival?” The blue elf questioned his companion.

“It’s also known as the Burning of King Olaf. The Bards College create a straw effigy of the king long ago and set it ablaze once the sun goes down completely,” the young mage informed as they passed under a stone bridge high above them.

Ian cocked a brow, “That sounds a little morbid if you ask me,” he responded. As he was briskly led along, he noticed the faint smell of burning material- _and believe him, he remembers the smell from when the Manticore’s Tavern was burning down around him, his father’s legs, and his brother_ \- and a dark plume of smoke in the distance. He could notice the dark fumes even with the sky completely darkened, and the two moons contrasting the pitch black sky above.

“I’m not surprised that you would. When I first heard of the festival many moons ago, I was a little put off myself,” Loki chuckled. His pacing slowed down considerably as he looked back at Ian, “But hey, that’s Nord culture. If it doesn’t involve destroying something or mass amounts of mead, it isn’t a festival!”

Ian chuckled in response. Loki came to a stop at a small plaza where numerous food stands were set up. “Do you want to take a seat at an empty table while I go get some food for us?” Loki asks. The blue elf nodded before walking to a vacant, but small table. He sat down in one of the wooden chairs and removed the gloves he uses to protect his hands from the biting cold. Loki returned with two bottles holding a liquid of some sort, alcohol no doubt.

Immediately, Ian shook his head, “No Loki! I’m not interested in getting another hangover like I did at Windhelm!” He let out half a chuckle, “He _lllll_ no!”

The pale skinned Mer let out a laugh, “No, no! It’s just some spiced wine! I just want you to have a taste-”

“-No.”

“It’s not strong, you won’t get a hangover, just a little buzz!” he chuckled as he poured a small amount into a tankard. “You need it, out of the both of us.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Ian scoffed. He let a small smirk show. 

“Oh, nothing..~” Loki pushed the tankard over to him. “If you somehow end up getting a hangover, I’ll give you fifty septims as compensation for your milk belly,” he told the older Mer. “I’m going to go get us some food, how does venison stew sound?”

“Sounds good,” Ian responded.

As Loki walked over to a food stand, where an Imperial man stirred a food pot, Ian took a sip of the wine Loki poured. He flinched at the taste, but he could guess that is why it’s called ‘Spiced’ wine. A small group of people walked out of the building next to him, each holding an instrument different from the other. The group started to play a song, it was an upbeat and cheery song, and a few people got up to dance to the tune. Ian could never really do that out in public, he was always clumsy with his feet. Hell, he seemed to trip over nothing in his own home.

Two children attempting to dance along to the song caught Ian’s attention. A boy and a girl, both Nords- or he thinks they’re Nords. They could be Imperials as well. Either way, the boy tripped over the girl’s leg, and the two fell to the ground. They started laughing as one tried to get up first and trip the other. Ian smiled fondly, it has to have been years, but he remembers Barley trying to get Ian to dance at his birthday party. How old was Barley? Seven? Eight? He doesn’t remember exactly, but what he does remember was that he tried getting Ian to dance along with this really goofy song. He played along for a little bit, but copped out after stubbing his toe in the couch’s corner. He instinctively flexed his foot at the memory.

He didn’t realize he was hip deep into the hazy memory until a figure sat across from him, he looked up, seeing Loki with two bowls of venison stew, one of which had half a loaf of bread dipped into it. “What were you thinking about? Getting homesick again?” Loki asked as he pushed the stew with bread to Ian.

Ian sighed, but smiled solemnly, “Yeah. Do you get homesick?” He asked as he bit into the bread.

Loki made a _‘Hmm?’_ Sound as he spooned a chunk of venison into his maw. He swallowed, “Oh! You mean Cyrodiil!” He realized. “There really isn’t much to be homesick about. When my mom..” he paused for a brief moment, “..Passed, so to say, the house we lived in was worn down enough that it could collapse on itself any day. We weren’t very wealthy, even though my mom was an adventurer that uncovered many valuable treasures.

“I had no other known family, no one to really go to, I just wanted to fulfill her only expectation of me, to go to the College and put my gifted understanding of magic to use,” he recounted.

“What about friends? You’re a very welcoming person, I find it hard to believe that you didn’t have any friends in Cyrodiil.”

Loki hummed, “I had most of the Imperial City’s civilians as my friends, I sometimes got free treats from the vendors since I was so well liked,” he shrugged, “I just couldn’t stay in Cyrodiil knowing that I ignored the one thing my mother really wanted from me, and I knew that my friends had thought the same,” Loki clicked his tongue after a few seconds of thinking, “If I had known Skyrim was neck deep in a bloody civil conflict, I would have put together a better plan on how to cross the border.”

Ian cocked a brow, “A better plan?”

Loki spooned some of the stew into his mouth, “My plan on crossing the Skyrim border was to just walk along the path and avoid anyone that comes near, of course, that indirectly led me straight into an Imperial ambush that Ulfric Stormcloak was in. Long story short, I was a swing away from being beheaded by the executioner until an evil dragon unintentionally saved me.

“And to answer your initial question, no, I am not homesick for Cyrodiil directly.”

Ian chuckled softly, “You’ll need to tell me that ‘Evil Dragon’ story sometime.”

The Dunmer snickered, “I will, once you learn how to use those two spells I gave you when we first started our journey.”

Ian rolled his eyes playfully as he ate from his bowl of stew. He still felt a little homesick, and Loki took notice. The mage opened a bottle of spiced wine and took a hearty swig of the liquid. “What do you think of that wine? Are you feeling ditzy yet?” He asks, hoping it steers Ian away from his current state for a little bit.

The blue haired elf shrugged, “It’s fine,” he simply said, his face was still held in a sad state.

Loki’s brows knitted together in worry. He hates seeing Ian like this, even if he’s usually happy. The Dunmer removed his right glove and set it down on the table. He formed a small pebble of ice in between his thumb and index finger before flicking it at Ian’s ear.

Upon the smooth piece of ice striking Ian’s sensitive ear, he flinches before rubbing the tip of his ear where the ice hit him. “What’d you flick at me, ice?” Ian hissed. Loki tried keeping a straight face, but started snickering at his companion when he glared at him.

“It’s a trick of mine I’ve learned over the years. I freeze the oils I have on my fingertips and use it as something to get people’s attention. Cool, huh?” He asks with a sheepish grin.

“You’re unbelievable,” Ian chuckled, shaking his head.

“I can do that trick with my spit, too. Wanna see?-”

“No!”

Loki laughs. He noticed that the bards he’s grown acquainted with are now playing a slower song, with a few couples up and slow dancing along with the lute’s gentle strums. He finishes his bottle of wine when an idea pops in his head. “Hey,” he gets Ian’s attention without flicking ice at him, “Wanna dance?”

“W-What? Oh no!- I’m not really good at dancing!” He exclaims, a vibrant blush spreading across his face.

Loki smiled, “It’ll be fun, I can teach you!” He responds. He honestly can’t really dance either, but he wanted to take this opportunity to distract Ian from his longing for his home, “C’mon, no one’s here to judge, just get drunk and watch some straw burn!”

Ian reluctantly stood and let Loki lead him away from the tables. Loki takes Ian’s hand and steps closer while also taking his other hand to the side. “Alright, as I step back, you step forward with that same foot.”

As Loki takes a step back with his right foot, Ian rigidly steps forward with his right foot as well.

“Now, as you step backward like I did, I will do the same thing as you did, ready?”

Ian looks behind to see where he will step with his foot before taking a cautious step back. Loki grins, “You’re doing great, Ian. It’s as if you’re a professional,” Ian smiles, reassured. “I’m going to start moving without letting you know, you think you can keep up?”

Ian hums in response, but keeps his head down as extra reassurance that he won’t mess up. 

—————

As the next hour passed, the two elves slow danced, occasionally stumbling here and there. It was when the bards and the last of the food vendors at the Fire Festival decided to head for their home, and the straw effigy of King Olaf has been reduced to ashes, that the two parted from eachother. Ian sat in his chair, sipping down the last of the half-tankard Loki poured for him, “That was fun,” he said to his friend. Loki put his gloves back on, covering the burn scar on his wrist.

He looked over to Ian, smiling, “My house isn’t far from here, we should get going and get as much sleep as possible.”

Ian nodded. Loki led the way to a large, towering house with a few patches of mountain flowers growing out of the soil. Loki ascended up the stone stairs onto the porch. Ian awed at the marvelous, grey-bricked structure as Loki fumbled around in his pocket of numerous keys. He mumbles a _‘Gotcha..’_ and pulls out a copper key. “After you,” Loki hums, and holds the door open. The blue haired elf smiled in response, and stepped into the dark and unlit house. 

“How long have you had this house?” He asks Loki, who closes the door behind him and starts lighting a few candles.

The Mer hums. He thought on it for a few seconds, “A few years. I think I was thirteen when I bought this place,” he responded as he lit the fireplace.

“How old do you have to be to own property?”

“Eighteen, I’ve been told. Even then, you would have to be the son or daughter of someone wealthy to own a house that young.”

Ian cocked a brow as he looked around at the shelves holding many books and recipes of some kind, “Then how did you get this place?”

“Are you asking how I was able to afford Proudspire Manor, or how I got the chance to buy it in the first place?” Loki chuckled. He motioned for Ian to follow him downstairs with his head.

“Would both take to long to explain?” He asked in response as he followed Loki down the staircase into an alchemy and enchanting room of sorts. Many weapons and shields were held up in display racks or plaques, and they all had an enchanting glow to them similar to the robes he and Loki don.

“Well, I honestly don’t know how or why Falk Firebeard made the house available to me. Maybe it was because he saw how well I handle myself after I cleared out Wolfskull Cave,” Loki paused as he arranged dried roots of some kind. “And me affording it was easy. I’m a magnet for gold and jewelry!”

“You mean, ‘I steal dead peoples’ gold and jewels from tombs’.”

The mage scoffed, “You make it seem like I’m committing a crime here. What are those mummified remains gonna use those septims for?”

“What if you were a dried up husk and you saw some random guy stealing your belongings?”

“I would.. be dead?” Loki chuckled.

Ian punched the Dunmer’s shoulder playfully, “You know what I mean!” He barked.

Loki chuckled softly, he opened a door to a dimly lit room with a bed and a nightstand next to it. “This is the spare bedroom I use for anyone that’s visiting. Sorry that it doesn’t look too appealing.”

Ian looked over to the mage, “Why can’t I sleep with you?” He asked. When Loki looked back at him with widened eyes, the blue elf quickly tried explaining himself, “I mean- it gets really cold at night! A-And you’re really warm!-”

Loki laughed, “It’s fine, I understand!” He closed the door to the very dim and plain room and started heading upstairs. Ian followed after him, a blush still spread across his face. Upon following his companion to the top floor, Loki opened the door to his bedroom. It was a cozy room, with a comfortable looking bed, and many drawers no doubt holding jewelry. Loki removed his shoes before hopping into the bed. He sighed in contentment, “This bed is awesome, you should get in while I’m still getting comfy,” he chuckled.

He rolled his eyes playfully. Ian kicked off his shoes before climbing in alongside Loki. He already felt his muscles loosen up and sleep threatened to take him right then and there. The young mage would have fallen asleep had Loki not wrapped his arms around his waist. Ian jumped lightly. He turned over to face the Dunmer, “Loki, what are you?..”

“Didn’t you say you would be cold?” Loki asked. “I know that you’re sensitive to Skyrim’s chill. If you don’t want my arms around you, that’s ok-”

“No, it’s ok. You just surprised me..” Ian sleepily mumbled.

“Well, I am full of surprises~” He hummed jokingly. He was glad the excuse about the cold was enough to convince Ian. _He really just wanted to cuddle with the blue, elven mage_. Ian smiled as his eyes closed, and soon drifted to sleep.

—————

_Knock-Knock, Knock, Knock-Knock-Knock!_

A sharp and horrendously out of rhythm knock at the door downstairs awoke Loki. He groaned in annoyance, which sounded more like a growl. He can’t ever get any good sleep anymore..

Seeing as Ian was still asleep, the Dunmer took it upon himself to carefully get out of the warm bed he hasn’t felt in the past few months and see what utter fool thought it was a good idea to visit him at these ungodly hours. Loki yawned as he looked out one of the many windows of his home. The sun hasn’t even poked out from the horizon. 

_Knock, Knock-Knock, Knock!_

“I’m coming, I’m coming..” Loki growled lowly as he rushed down the cold, stone stairs. He opened the door to a woman chewing on her nails. She wore rags for clothes, and her brown hair is so messy and frazzled it could qualify as a bird nest. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

The beggar-looking woman held a letter out quickly and a little jittery. “Here!” She simply said, and quickly, as if she were in a rush, but wanted to be formal. “Read it! That’s what you do with a letter, right?! Wait, no, you open the envelope then read the letter- just read it! It’s very important!”

Loki took the letter. He looked at the letter for any address, but only seeing the pure white envelope and a blood red wax seal. “Who’s the sender?” He looked up, but she was gone. Loki shook his head before closing the door. He opened the peculiar letter and started reading it. As the rather short letter went on, his brows knitted together in confusion. There is no address, no signature, no nothing.. just to meet in the Pelagius wing as soon as possible..

**_The Pelagius wing.._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahah so I’m back after disappearing for more than 2 months. Things have been not so jazzy as of recently, which took a toll on my writing. I also fell down the JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure hole, and I’m trying to climb out enough to write some damn chapters for y’all lmao. Also, have this long ass chapter as compensation for me going to get milk and not returning for 69 years.
> 
> But seriously, if I don’t update for a while from time to time, _you’ll know why_ , but I’m not deserting this story anytime soon ;w;


	24. The Mad God

_Dear Loki, or is it Lokithur? Whichever you prefer being addressed by formally,_

_Hey! Long time, no see, or rather, long time, no meeting? No matter! If this letter has graced your mortal fingers, then you must be reading these letters. Or you could be a dragon that ate my lovely messenger. Either outcomes are fine. I am humbly inviting you to tea, cheese, and biscuits in the Pelagius Wing of the Blue Palace. I’m sure you already know how to get there._

_I will be seeing you soon!_

Loki looked back down at the letter as he passed by guards and maids alike. He receives a passing greeting every once and a while as the Dunmer strides through the regal halls. The floors are so clean that he could eat food off of them. Then again, he doesn’t have very high standards to begin with.

He then came to a single set of doors with an ingrained sign above them reading, _‘Pelagius Wing’_. Loki looked around to see if anyone was watching him, since this secluded part of Castle Solitude is prohibited to nearly everyone. Even the maids hardly ever enter in fear the spirit of Pelagius the third will haunt them.

Loki pulled out the key to the Pelagius Wing and discreetly unlocks the doors to enter. Even now, he hasn’t ridden himself of any keys he claimed in his quests. Hell, he has an entire drawer full of iron, copper, and occasionally gold keys back in Lakeview Manor.

Upon closing the door behind him, Loki immediately regretted his decision of being so careless when he walked face first into a string of cobwebs. “Ugh..” he groaned as he pulled the stringy silk from his face, hair, and clothes. He should have expected that would happen. It happened to him last time too, but he also stepped in skeever droppings.

Being careful to not make past mistakes, the mage walked throughout the abandoned portion of Castle Solitude. He casted a Candlelight spell to aid him as he traversed the pitch black rooms. The bright light shone on a mounted deer head, causing him to jump slightly. The Mer chuckled at himself, “Now why would an alive deer be in the Pelagius Wing?” Loki asked himself. Dead silence answered him, which was expected. He continued walking through the dark area, soon coming to the same corridor as last time. Loki swept a cobweb out of his path when his vision started blurring. A burning, but familiar sensation overcame him, and his vision darkened.

———

Loki blinked the darkness away as a cold _chill_ swept over him like a bucket of freezing ice water. The Dunmer looked around, and saw he was in a familiar location. Pelagius’ mind. He looked down, and was relieved to still have his usual getup instead of the ridiculous clothes he wore the last time he was here.

Not far ahead, a large table with many treats and platters of food that reminds him of Cyrodiil were set accordingly. He was drawn to it immediately, but the figure sitting in a rather lavish and comfortable chair put him off quickly, even though he already had an idea of who wanted him to visit. Sheogorath...

The Mad God smiled widely upon seeing the Dragonborn, “Welcome, Loki! Did the trip here make you weary? Have a seat!” Suddenly, a seat similar to Sheogorath’s materialized into thin air and pushed forward, causing the elf to stumble back into it with a soft ‘oomph!’.

Loki made himself comfortable in the chair, “So, why did you want me to come? And why the mind of a dead, insane king?” The Dunmer questioned.

“Why _not_ the mind of a dead, insane king? Have some tea, you must be thirsty,” he responds. The Mad God poured some tea into the teacup to the right of Loki before setting it down in the middle of the table, “And what kind of Daedric Prince would I be if I don’t host my champion for a little chat and cheese? I’m sure you’re busy, killing vampires with your little companion, but I am sure even you wouldn’t resist this ornate little tea party with your uncle Sheogorath,” he chattered.

“Uh.. thank you?” Loki responded as he took a wary sip of the liquid. It wasn’t blood, or urine, thank the Nine. “Wait- how do you know about Ian?” He queried.

“Ian! That’s his name!” Sheogorath exclaimed, “I initially thought his name was something like Igor, or Issac, starting with an ‘I’! Still a funny name for an elf, but I digress! I know a lot about you, Loki! You are far too entertaining to just simply _ignore!_ ”

The Mer looked off to the side slightly, “I’m not sure how to feel about that. But I am flattered you want to host a party for me,” Loki chuckled slightly, “Even if it’s only us, and inside the mind of Pelagius the Mad.”

“You could have brought Ian-Igor-Issac here with ya’. Would have been a delight to meet the little apprentice, maybe even turn him into a chicken for a bit,” Sheogorath laughed.

“When you sent your courier, he was still asleep in bed,” he responded. He started nibbling on a boiled cream treat stacked high on a platter within arm’s reach. “These past few weeks have been hard for him to adjust. He deserves a well night’s rest and a good bed,” the Dunmer mumbled. He looked over to the Mad God, who was observing him intently. Loki cocked a brow, but he was obviously nervous. “What’s that look for? Did I say something wrong?”

Sheogorath leaned away a little, “Ever since that wonderful and quite entertaining time you used the Wabbajack to help little Pelagius’ mad mind, I have been scratching my head. I can’t understand why you look so familiar!”

Loki knitted his brows, “What do you mean?”

Sheogorath hummed as he rested his chin on his knuckles, “You’re face is incredibly familiar, you feel like an old friend from a long time ago, long enough ago when I was just a wee boy Sheo. I have been scratching my head for nearly four years, and I need to figure out whether it’s just the wine I’ve been drinking, or if it’s something else. It is an eternity too early for me to start balding from all this head scratching, now aren’t I?” He chortled.

“So that’s the real reason you brought me out of my warm bed for? Some tea and to get a better look at me?” Loki snorted.

“Quite possibly! Now boy, how well do you know your family tree?” The Mad God queried. He held a grin as he ripped off a piece of cheese from a nearby cheese wheel and popped it into his mouth.

“Family tree, uh...” Loki scratched the back of his head as he took a sip from the tea, the taste is starting to grow on him, “..Well, my mother was an adventurer, both of my grandparents were soldiers in the Great War, and my father was a Snow Elf. That’s all I truly know.”

“A Falmer, eh? I wonder how that could have turned out,” Sheogorath laughed.

“No! By the Nine, no! He wasn’t one of those monsters,” Loki barked. He looked off to the side, “At least, I don’t think he was..”

“So, you don’t happen to have any Imperial blood in you? Not a tiny drop?”

“No,” 

“Are you associated with the Dark Brotherhood, Thieves Guild, maybe? Do you know any foxes, grey to be exact?”

Loki sighed as he shook his head, “Do these questions actually have a point? You’re speaking like a madman, but I guess you would take that as a compliment, eh?”

Sheogorath thought on it for a bit, “These questions swarm me like flies on corpses, but they feel important to ask. They feel like a jagged puzzle piece to one big and warped puzzle in my mind,” he was quiet for a moment or two, taking another querying look at Loki, and the eerie silence throughout the entire forest of Pelagius’ mind was almost maddening. “Well, I guess that’s the end of this little tea party. I best return to the Shivering Isles before my subjects start missing me, eh? Be sure to tell me all about your adventures the next time we meet!”

“Wait, who do I look like? Sheo-” Loki vanished in a plume of purple smoke, leaving the Mad God alone in Pelagius’ thoughts.

Sheogorath finished his cup of tea before rising from the table. He scoffed to himself, “There were hundreds of faces I have seen before my ascent to godhood, thousands even. Besides, most Dunmer kin look the same anyway,” he himself started to evaporate into a vibrant purple smoke while the world he created in Pelagius’ mind started breaking into fragments. “I’ve had too little cheese and wine, or is it too much?” He laughed as he started to return to his Plane of Oblivion, “Bah! You can never have too much cheese, Sheogorath, are you mad?”

———

_Julius counted approximately forty five septims he and Drenuin conned out of some traveling merchants passing by the Imperial City. His brother, not by blood, was skipping stones out into the water they sat close to. The day was busy for the Imperial City’s Waterfront, as ships from all over were piling in with many varieties of goods. It was tempting, but Julius knows better than to try stealing from the East Empire Company, with all the heavy security placed on those ships._

_Drenuin took heavy notice from the ships too. The young Dunmer sat next to him, resting his head on his hand as he watched the crates of gold and expensive goods were loaded out by sailors. “So how much gold did we pull off those saps?”_

_He sighed, “If I’m going to be completely honest with you, not much. We’ll maybe be able to live off this pouch of gold for two days if we only eat bread and grass.”_

_“Ugh..” Dren groaned as he laid back on the cold stone, “This whole existence is bullshit. How come we are stuck with scams and pickpocketing to get by, while those fetchers are swimming in gold like it’s their business?”_

_“I wouldn’t say that. At least we aren’t rotting in a cell for most of our lives like that Valen Dreth,” Julius responded as he started dropping the septims back into the small purse he counted them out of._

_“I hate that rat bastard. He thinks he’s so superior to us, treating us like a couple of kids from the orphanage. We’re not the ones crapping in a bucket and depending on prison guards for food and cleanliness!” He ranted._

_The Imperial chuckled, “Well, we have been in and out of a jail cell close to his for nearly five years,” he tilted his head in the direction of the Imperial Prison, “Your problem with him is that you let him get to you. You won’t let things roll down your back.”_

_“First of all, you let everything roll down your back. Second of all, I have a reason to be angry. One of these days, I tell you, I will kill that asshole when I get the chance.”_

_Julius shook his head as he laid back with the pouch of gold stuffed into his ragged pockets, he watched the dark clouds roll in over the sunset. It’s going to rain tonight.. “Just a little bit more of this, then we will be able to buy ourselves some swords, and bows with arrows, and join the Arena.”_

_Drenuin huffed, “Why don’t we just nab some weapons off of an incoming ship? We will be in and out with a couple shiny swords, and none of those guards will notice.”_

_The dark haired man shot up immediately, “Have you lost your mind, brother? They will have our heads if we try stealing from the East Empire Company!-”_

_“-If they catch us! It’s not like we’re stealing the entire ship, just a couple swords so we’ll actually be taken seriously by Owyn when we go down into the Bloodworks,” Dren responded with a huff._

_“No dice. I’m not willing to risk several months of saving up and cutting meals from our budget just to have it all thrown away for a cold, jail cell’s floor.”_

_The raven haired Dunmer sighed, “Look, I want to do it. I’m confident in my breaking and entering abilities, but I won’t do it if you don’t want to,” he told the Imperial he has grown up with._

_As another ship rolled into the Waterfront, Julius rose from where he was sitting with the coin pouch in his hands, “I’m going to go drop this in our gold stash, you coming?” He asked Drenuin. The young Mer nodded as he stood as well._

_As the two young men walked through the gross and dull streets of the Waterfront, they both stayed fairly silent. There wasn’t anything to really talk about. But once they turned the corner, a wave of dread slowly dawned on the both of them._

_Julius’ heart stopped the second he saw the hiding space they hid their savings. It was ransacked, and it was plainly obvious that there wouldn’t be any septims waiting for them in the box they had kept hidden. “No, no, no, no...!” Julius ran over and rummaged around in the crushed and ripped up bush. Not a single glint of gold stood out to him, just a broken, wooden box, and a bush that would likely never truly recover from the assault thrown upon it._

_A couple tears ran down the man’s face out of shock. Six months of cutting out lunches and narrowly avoiding being caught by the authorities. All of that for nothing. He wiped the tears away furiously as he gripped the pouch of gold harshly._

_“Those assholes.. they stole our savings..” Drenuin mumbled. The pure anger had not settled in completely yet, but once it did, the Dunmer quickly spun around and kicked an old, nearby wooden bucket with enough force to send it flying into the ground harshly. It broke into pieces as the metal frame rolled around and settled into the dirty ground._

_Julius rose from his crouched position. He stuffed the purse of gold into his pocket roughly. When he turned around, he gave a look to his brother that may or may not have brightened his current mood. “..Which one of those ships do you want to hop on?..”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I liked writing Sheogorath’s exaggerated personality quite a bit, and it would be breath of fresh air as a little more of Loki’s lineage lore is expanded upon.


	25. Into the River

Ian looked over at Loki, who has yet again, dozed off while riding on Skadi. The blue Elf reached over and shook his shoulder, awakening Loki for the third time since they left Solitude for Fort Dawnguard. He didn’t even want to get up from his bed when they woke up. As they passed through Dragon Bridge for the second time, the first being when Serana had accompanied them, Ian cleared his throat. “Do you think we should stay in Dragon Bridge for a while so you can take a nap. You don’t seem like you got a lot of sleep last night..”

Loki shook his head while rubbing his eyes, “No, we should try to get to Whiterun while it’s light out. I can wait until then,” he hummed.

As they started crossing the large stone bridge, Ian looked up at the chiseled dragon head with it’s gaping maw, “I know we saw one in Eastmarch on the way to Windhelm, but do dragons really look that intimidating?”

Once they crossed to the other side, Loki yawned and looked back at the bridge, “Yeah, but you get used to their faces after a while. I did after I had slain my..” he thought on it for a moment, “..Fifth dragon. But I guess Paarthurnax helped me a lot with standing my ground against a dragon.”

“Who’s Paarthurnax? You say his name here and there while we travel, but I don’t think you ever really told me about him,” Ian asked.

Loki yawned again, “Paarthurnax is the leader of the Greybeards. He resides on the summit of the Throat of the World, that big mountain,” he pointed to the tallest mountain.

Ian’s jaw nearly dropped. “He lives up _there_?! How does he survive?!”

Loki let out a brief laugh. They took a right turn down the road, “He’s very resilient against the freezing winds. He’s a very powerful, but kind mentor.”

“And when you say he helped you with standing your ground against dragons, is he a renowned dragon slayer?”

Loki started snickering. “I would say to keep guessing, but you’d be guessing all day! He’s..” Loki looked forward, and saw what was ahead of him, his voice trailed off. His previously playful smile had turned to one of shock.

Ian looked in the direction they were facing, and lying ten meters away was an overturned wagon with a woman in a pool of her own blood.

Upon getting closer, it was made apparent that arrows stuck out of her back, the horse pulling the covered wagon was mutilated, and laying ten feet away from the wagon. Loki dismounted Skadi and knelt down at the corpse. Ian slid down from his steed’s back and got closer, but reeled back at the smell emanating from the aftermath.

Loki pulled out one of the many arrows planted into her. He glowered at the arrow and tightened his grip on it. “What is it?” Ian asked as he covered his nose and mouth with his robes to protect his senses from the smell of death.

The Dunmer showed his companion the arrow. It was slick with blood, but he assumed the original color of it was a dark grey, due to the nock and fletching being untouched by that woman’s bodily fluids. It was forked at the tip, and small green bulbs stuck out of it sparingly. “Falmer..” Loki said softly. He had a look in his eyes that would be almost ashamed, “Snow Elves at one point. They must be living in that cave over there, and ambushed her,” he looked over at the horse that is missing parts of it’s body, “And judging by that horse’s state, they decided to take what could be eaten as well..”

“Falmer? Didn’t you say you are part Falmer?”

“I’m not one of those monsters!” Loki barked angrily, causing Ian to flinch at his response. He tossed the arrow to the side and returned to Skadi. He hitched himself up on her back and continued on.

“W-What about the woman?” The blue Elf asked.

“Dragon Bridge guards come through here every once in a while. There isn’t anything we can do for someone already dead..”

Ian sighed and jumped back up on Allie. He pet her mane as he followed after his friend. He looked back at the bodies and sighed once more. He’ll be sure to avoid caves when he can..

About ten minutes pass as they follow the road when Ian decides to speak up. “I’m sorry, about earlier. I didn’t mean to offend you..”

Loki looks back at the Elf he has grown attached to, “No, I should be sorry. You were just curious, and I snapped at you for it,” He looked off to the side at the river they have been following next to, his reflection was distorted by the currents rippling through the water. “I just get insecure about my heritage sometimes. I believe my mom when she told me my father was a pre-slavery Falmer, and isn’t one of those savages, but it doesn’t hurt any less that I’m connected to the underground Falmer that have such deep seeded hatred for the surface world..” he sighed. He slowed Skadi down to where she is walking at the same pace as Alfsigr. “I’m really sorry for barking at you like I did..”

Ian smiled, “I forgive you. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here to listen. We are friends and traveling partners, after all.”

The Dunmer smiled back. He looked forward, and immediately halted Skadi. “Hold on, Ian,” He put an arm out in front of him.

Ian looked out in front of him. A settlement of some kind was set up in the road along the rocks, making it impossible to go through the path without passing the settlement. “What’s wrong?” He asked Loki.

“That’s a bandit settlement. I don’t want to risk the horses’ lives to fight through..” He steered Skadi along the river’s edge, “..So we’ll have to trudge through the river and meet along the path.” Loki slid down from the dappled mare’s back, and led her into a shallow part of the river by the reins. Ian dismounted Alfsigr and followed after the mage. The blue Elf dipped his foot into the water, and recoiled upon feeling the bone chilling water. “C’mon Ian! The quicker you trudge through, the quicker we can get somewhere to dry our clothes!” Loki called out. Skadi was just as compliant as the water ran up to both of their knees.

“Easy for you to say! You’ve lived here for several years, you’re used to this!” Ian called back.

“And chances are, you’re likely to live in Skyrim for the rest of your life, so you might as well get used to her cold water and wind!”

Ian sighed as he watched Loki lead Skadi halfway across the freezing river. He threw up his hood once a cold breeze tickled the back of his neck. Allie nosed his face encouragingly. He smiled and gave her head a gentle pat. The mage slowly walked out into the icy river. “Oh _shit_ , that’s cold!..” Ian hissed. Alfsigr followed in after him after he tugged on her reins. Ian huffed when he saw that she wasn’t even phased by the water. He waded after Loki, who had gotten even closer to the other side-

“Gah!!” Ian cried out in sheer pain when he felt a sharp bite in his leg. His blood quickly drew and painted the water around him crimson. Another set of teeth sunk into his other leg, causing him to cry out again.

“Ian!” Loki took notice of his companion’s cries and left Skadi’s side. He saw dark figures swimming around Ian and Alfsigr, “Slaughterfish..” he said to himself with fear stricken eyes. Regardless, he lunged forward in the water as his horse climbed out of the river and watched with worry. Skadi paced back and forth from the edge of the river. A couple of the fish snapped at the Dunmer as they swam around their prey. Alfsigr reared back on her hind legs and whinnied in fear. He hissed in pain as a few of the fish tore into his ankles and legs.

Loki clenched his fist. A red aura surrounded it with crackles of energy sparking from the cracks of his fist. Upon hurling the spell into the water, the slaughterfish immediately stopped attacking the two and swam down the stream. He quickly scooped Ian into his arms and out of the water’s reach. With him in his arms bridal style, he was able to get a better look at his legs as he led Alfsigr out of the river before those slaughterfish return. He winced visably upon seeing that the edges of his pants were torn to ribbons, and his ankles were bleeding considerably. It didn’t help at all that the blue Elf was whimpering in pain. It tore his heart apart far worse than any slaughterfish could.

Once he brought Ian and his steed to dry land, he set his friend down to lay in the grass as he examined his legs further. Loki rolled Ian’s pant legs all the way up to his knees, and was relieved to see that the damage isn’t as bad as it could have been. There are various bite marks scouring his legs, with the torn skin easily mendable. “Oh, that’s not so bad..” Loki hummed. He went through his satchel to pull out some wheat.

“Here, eat this, Ian,” he held a couple wheat ears to his mouth. With tears streaming down his face, the Elf reluctantly chewed down on them as Loki returned to his legs.

Ian sat up, wincing at the dulling sting in his legs. He wiped away at his face and watched as Loki used Healing Hands on his legs and ankles. He noticed that blood was trailing from the Dunmer’s torn up pant legs, “Y-You’re bleeding too..”

Loki hummed as he pulled his hands away from the multiple scars lined across Ian’s legs, “I didn’t get bitten as much, you probably stepped on their eggs as you followed me,” he responded.

“O-Oh..”

“Don’t feel bad,” Loki said as he started healing his own wounds, “Those little bastards kill negligent swimmers every year,” He looked back at the river, chuckling, “And now I’ll be sure to return here if I ever need any slaughterfish scales.”

Ian remained silent. He rubbed his ankle where he was bitten, which has been turned into a plethora of scars. _‘I must worry him a lot..’_ he thought to himself as Loki stood up and wrang water out of his pant legs. His gaze fell to his scarred, but healed legs, _‘What if we parted ways once we reach Whiterun? I wouldn’t be such a burden to him-’_ He flinched slightly when Loki offered his hand to help him up.

Loki’s content smile wavered for a moment, “Is something wrong, Ian?” He asked.

Ian stared at his outstretched hand, “..No, nothing’s wrong..” he said softly as he took it. His friend pulled him up, holding him for a moment as he tried to gain balance on his legs.

“I know a tailor in Whiterun who can have our pant legs stitched up in no time. We can also spend a night at the Bannered Mare if there are any available rooms,” Ian listened to the mage as they made their way to the horses. Thankfully, Allie was alright, and didn’t receive any injuries caused by his careless actions. Loki gave him one last look, “Are you sure you’re ok, Ian? If it’s about the slaughterfish, I can go back and see if any of the eggs were unharmed.”

“No, it’s not about the fish-”

“So you _are_ troubled by something!” Loki prodded.

“Wait, no! I didn’t mean it like that!” Ian exclaimed. He waved his hands in front of him dismissively.

“You mean that you didn’t want me to know,” he poked further. “Just tell me what’s wrong. Do you not trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you!”

“Then tell me why you’re so blue on the way to Rorikstead,” Loki responded.

Ian sighed in defeat. As he made his way to Alfsigr, the Dunmer offered to help him up with a simple gesture. “I can get on myself, Loki..” he turned him down. He hoisted himself up onto his horse’s back.

Loki nodded and went to go mount onto his own steed. They traversed back onto the road and followed it from there, “So, why are you being so distant? Is it me?” He queried.

Ian dipped his gaze to Alfsigr’s mane for a moment, “Please be honest with me..” he swallowed his anxieties and looked over at Loki’s concerned features, “Am.. am I a burden to you?”

His eyes widened, “What?..”

“..Would I be better off staying in Whiterun and helping Danica Pure-Spring tend to the sick and elderly?”

Loki was silent for a moment, his eyes were a mix of confusion and sadness, “Where is all of this coming from? Of course, you’re not a burden to me! You never were, and you never will be!”

“Then how come you pay for all of my needs, you have saved my dumb ass more times than I can count, and get hurt in the process!? When have I ever saved you in the time we’ve known eachother?” Ian barked at Loki. Tears brimmed his eyes again, but he furiously wiped them away, “I’m just dragging along with you like I’m some sort of lost child!”

Loki tilted Skadi closer to Ian so he could brush curly strands of hair out of his face, “You don’t give yourself nearly as much credit as you deserve, you pay back tenfold in what I do for and with you..” he mumbled solemnly.

Ian sniffled, “W.. what do you mean?..”

Loki smiled warmly, “You are a great friend, someone who listens and has a heart for adventure. I enjoy having you as my companion, despite the cuts and bruises that comes with watching someone else’s back,” he laughed softly, “Me getting hurt is a daily occurrence, just ask Skadi how many times I’ve stepped in bear traps and shot with arrows!” He ruffled the mare’s mane.

“Y-You don’t think I’m a burden?..”

“I don’t, and anybody who would is asking for a fist to the face,” he responded. “You shouldn’t ever think you’re a burden, you’re far too good to be stooping down to those levels,” Loki brushed a stray tear that found it’s way to Ian’s cheek with his gloved thumb.

The Elf’s face flushed a soft pink, “Thanks..”

A small town came into view, “Oh! That must be Rorikstead. We can stop there for a drink if you want.”

Ian shrugged, “I’m sure the horses would appreciate it.”

Upon reaching Rorikstead, the peacefulness of the steading charmed Ian immediately. Unlike Whiterun or Solitude, with it’s bustling population and cheery atmosphere, nor Riften with it’s bleak walls and citizens, Rorikstead is just peaceful and quiet. He looked around at the people going about their daily routines of farming, it’s as if nothing bad here ever happens. Loki led the way to the inn, and slid down from Skadi’s back. He gave her a gentle pat on the neck. “I’ll go get you a drink,” He told Ian.

Ian nodded, he hopped down from Alfsigr and watched her follow after Skadi as they went off to graze. As Loki entered the inn, named _‘Frostfruit Inn’_ , Ian sat down on a rock and unsheathed his staff from his back. He almost forgot it this morning, and thankfully, it was unharmed in the slaughterfish attack. He traced his thumb over all the dents and cuts in the wood, especially the bite mark where that death hound nearly mauled him. How many times has he narrowly evaded death’s cold, skeletal hands? It had to have been countless times, even before he was plunged into Skyrim.

“Hello?..” a female voice caught his attention. Ian looked up to see a girl, a year or two younger than him. Her dirty blonde hair was held into a loose braid, and her dress was smeared with dirt. “Are you a mage from the College of Winterhold?” She queried.

“The College of Winterhold?” He questioned. It took him a second to remember that Loki told him about the College. “Oh! No, I’m not.”

“Oh,” she responded, she smiled, “I’m Sissel, I’m leaving for the College in a few months!” Sissel introduced herself. She held out a dirt ridden hand for Ian to shake.

Ian smiled, shaking her hand, “I’m Ian. My friend inside is the Arch-Mage if you want to talk to him.”

The Nord gasped excitedly, “You’re a friend of Loki’s? Has he taught you any spells? Fireball? Ice Storm?”

He chuckled nervously, “I only know the Flames spell,” he grinned sheepishly. “But I know a vast range of spells from my staff. Do you want to see?” He offered.

“Yes, please! I’ve never heard of a multi-school staff!” Sissel exclaimed, even more excited than before.

Ian smiled. He stood from the rock he was sitting on and held his staff in preparation. He pointed the end at a nearby bucket. It’s been a while since he used his staff for this, “Aloft-”

“Sissel!” Ian stopped the spell at the last second, and both of the youths turned their heads in the direction of the call. Another girl, looking near identical to Sissel, save for her dress being a dull blue and her hair let down to fall over her shoulders. She looked very annoyed, “Stop talking to that elf and get to scrubbing the clothes I left for you!”

“That’s your job!”

“It doesn’t matter who’s job it is! I’m the older sister, so you do as I tell you!” She barked.

Ian narrowed his gaze at Sissel’s sister, _‘Rude..’_ he thought to himself. Not a day goes by that he is not grateful for having as great of a brother Barley was.

Sissel sighed, “I hope to see you again, I really want to see what spells your staff can conjure,” she started towards the direction her sister went. “Maybe if you join the College, we can study together!” She said as she followed after her older sister.

Ian smiled. The sound of Frostfruit Inn’s door opening and shutting caught his attention. Loki walked down the wooden steps with a cup of in his hand. Loki’s face was one of deep thought as he approached Ian. “Did I miss anything?” He asked his friend with a grin.

“Eh. I met this girl named Sissel, she says she’s going off to join the College of Winterhold in a couple months or so.”

“Oh, Sissel’s a really nice girl. She’s usually one of the first people to greet me when I visit Rorikstead, she’d make a great mage at the College too,” he commented. He handed Ian the cup filled with a clear liquid inside. He sniffed the inside to see if it had an odor to it. No, it’s water, strangely enough.

“You got water instead of ale?” Ian asked his friend as he took a sip. It was clean water too.

The Dunmer mage sat on a nearby rock, “Yeah, I figured that you would want that instead of whatever else they had,” he responded rather absentmindedly. His thoughts were focused on something else.

Ian cocked a brow, “Is something wrong? You’re frowning about something.”

His eyes widened slightly, “I’m just thinking about something,” he waved him off with a grin.

The Elf took a sip of water as he sat next to him. “So, are we going through that cold path in the mountains again?”

Loki shook his head, “No, we will take a different path once we restock and rest in Whiterun..” he said as he pulled out his map. He traced their route with his index finger, “To save time, we will probably cut through the wilderness of Eastmarch, and find the road again.”

“I remember you saying there are a lot of dangerous creatures in Eastmarch, what will we do about them?”

“They shouldn’t be a problem, considering hardly anything can outrun our horses.”

“If it’s not too much of a stupid question, then why don’t we cut through the wilderness more often?”

Loki chuckled softly, “There are lots of traps in the heavily wooded and rural parts of Skyrim, not to mention rabbit holes. If either Allie or Skadi break one of their legs in the middle of nowhere, it may be nearly impossible to get them back to a town in one piece. But since Eastmarch is pretty flat and hardly wooded land, we would be able to see a hole or trap easily.”

“Oh..” Ian huffed. He looked out into the small field where the two mares are grazing. “Have you noticed that those two are almost always together? Like, when we set up for the night somewhere, they could part ways at any point, but they don’t.”

“Horses are herd animals-”

“Yeah, I know that already. But it feels more like friendship to me, like how we hardly ever leave eachother’s sides.”

“Well, Skadi is a friendly horse that enjoys company. For the past few years, she’s only really had me, so I could guess she’s happy she has another mare to bond with,” he smiled at the white dapple. “And the reason I hardly ever leave your side is because you would find some way to get in trouble!” He teased as he ruffled Ian’s curly, blue locks.

“Shut up!” He barked back playfully. With one hand, he fixed his hair, with another, he pulled out the tome for Candlelight. “Do you think I should read this book now, while we’re here?”

“No, not here,” Loki firmly said.

“Why not?” He asked

“Rorikstead isn’t a fan of magic, nor elves. One of the only reasons I’m treated nicer is because I fend this place off from wolves, sabre cats, and the occasional rogue dragon,” he was quiet for a moment, “And because I’m good friends with the innkeeper’s son,” he added.

“So, should we get going?” Ian downed the rest of the water in the cup. “Where should I..?” he asked Loki about the now empty cup.

“Leaving it on the edge of the porch is fine. I’ll go get the horses,” The mage told Ian. He walked out to where the mares were grazing and started leading them back. The blue Elf set the cup on the edge of the porch before giving the peaceful farmstead one more look around. Upon Loki returning with their horses, they mounted their steeds, and were prepared to leave when a familiar voice called out to them.

“Ian! Loki!”

The two turned their heads to see Sissel catching up to them. Small patches of her dress were wet, from scrubbing grime out of clothes, no doubt. “Hey, Sissel! Have you finally come to your senses and going to the College early? You want a free ride to the nearest carriage?” Loki called.

The Nord girl rolled her eyes as her running slowed to a stop. “Jouane wanted me to give this to you. It’s an old spell tome from nearly two hundred years ago,” she chimed as she held up an old and dust ridden tome. “It’s a bit of a thank you for taking care of those wolves last time you were here.”

“Two hundred years old? What spell is it?” Loki queried, he took the book and examined the cover. It appeared to be an Alteration spell, with a drawing of a key on the cover. It had a very faint title due to age, _‘Open Average Lock’_ , “A lock opening spell, it has to have been ages since I’ve heard of those spells..” he mumbled as he stuffed the book into his robes. He smiled at Sissel, “Thank you, Sissel, tell Jouane that I greatly appreciate the tome,” he started moving onward, as did Ian. As the horses started to move into a trot, the two Mer waved back at the girl. “I will be waiting for you at the College eagerly! We will see you until then!” He called out.

Sissel waved her hand high as she watched their figures fade off into specks, “Goodbye, you two!!”


	26. Shoot your Shot

“Is that a fox?” Ian asked Loki as the red canine scampered out from the path they traversed on and into the brush. There are foxes in his world, but New Mushroomton is far from their ideal environment.

Loki chuckled, “Yeah. They are quite common in Skyrim.”

“I’ve never really seen one outside of a zoo,” he turned to Loki, “It is thought that they are descendants from the kitsune, which are magical creatures with multiple tails.”

“Never heard of a kitsune. Are they as common as unicorns in your world?” Loki queried.

“No,” Ian shook his head, “They are considered critically endangered, and are only found in dense forests and secluded mountains. I have only ever seen one through a documentary,” Ian hummed. An idea sprung into his mind, “Want to play a game?”

“What kind of game?” He asked.

“We will share things about ourselves, but the catch is that the things we share get more personal over time, and whoever gives up first, loses. We can flip a coin to see who goes first,” Ian explains.

Loki grinned as he pulled out a gold coin, “Alright, I’ll be tails,” he flipped the shiny septim into the air with the flick of his thumb. The sun’s light glinted off of the gold as it peaked in it’s flip. It fell down into Loki’s open palm, where a head was printed on the right side up. “Get to spilling, Ian,” he chuckled.

The blue Elf rolled his eyes playfully, “I was a ‘B’ plus to ‘A’ average student at my school,” he told his companion.

“Is that a grading system in your world?”

Ian nodded, “The worst grade you can receive is an ‘F’ minus, and the best grade is an ‘A’ plus,” he grinned, “Your turn. Remember, what we say slowly gets more personal.”

The mage hummed, “I really like dogs,” he simply said.

He chuckled, “Alright, fine. I was a chess player, I used to go to meetups every Tuesday,” he scratched the back of his head as he looked off to the side of the road, “I know, it’s really dorky-”

“What’s a ‘Tuesday’?”

Ian looked over to a really confused Loki, “Tuesday? It’s a day of the week. Y’know, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday..?”

“Oh! So that’s your world’s days of the week!” He laughed, “No, we have _Morndas, Tirdas, Middas, Turdas, Fredas, Loredas,_ and _Sundas_. But yeah, chess player, an old man game.”

“It’s not an old man game!” Ian huffed, “Whatever, your turn.”

The Dunmer-Falmer grinned sheepishly, “A couple years back, I cut my tongue badly on a broken ale bottle while trying to drink out of it, see?” He stuck his tongue out, and Ian could see the side of his tongue has a small ridged nick in it. He pulled it back in, “The embarrassing part was that I somehow forgot about Restoration magic in my intoxicated state, and had Farkas, a friend of mine, stitch my tongue up so it could heal properly when I drank a potion,” he chuckled briefly, “What happened was that Farkas was just as, if not more drunk than I was, and he did the most horrendous job at stitching my tongue up, and it never properly healed, even after I tried casting Healing on myself the next morning.”

Ian laughed, “Did it hurt?”

“Honestly, I don’t remember. A lot of crazy things happened at Jorrvaskr that night. A fight broke out, a few tables were broken, and someone vomited and fell down the stairs. Vignar Gray-Mane was so disappointed in us the next morning,” Loki snickered. “You’re turn, you have your chess hobby, I have a funny tongue story.”

The Elf’s ear twitched, “I used to.. be scared of the dark,” he chuckled. “At night, I would get too scared to sleep in my room and went to Barley’s room-”

Loki interrupted him, “That’s not a secret! Do over!” He barked.

“You were afraid of the dark?”

He huffed, “Terrified. It wasn’t until my mother got sick that I pushed my fears to the back of my mind and did my best to sleep in my own room and go into the basement by myself. Besides, tons of kids were afraid of the dark. If you could go into a dark alleyway in the Imperial City’s marketplace, and bring back a dead rat as proof, you were considered a _god_ among men,” he emphasized.

Ian giggled, “Ok, ok..” he thought of something new, “I can sew and mend clothes, and I would say I’m really good at it. I used to be picked on in middle school about it, but I eventually started ignoring it.”

“You sew? Well that’s good! I don’t need to pay a tailor every time our clothes rip!” He pointed to the various holes and tears in the ends of his pant leg made by the slaughterfish, “Do you think you can repair the tears those demon fish made to our pant legs?”

The mage looked down at the holes and tatters the ends of his pants have been reduced to, “Maybe, it would take me a little while. Do you have any thread or a needle?”

“No, but I can get those things once we reach Whiterun,” he then smiled, “My turn. Ok-” he laughed a little, “On the subject of things big, burly men would make fun of us for knowing, I know how to bake, but I only know how to make good crostatas. Snowberry crostatas, to be exact. Anything else I try to make will either turn out too cooked, not cooked enough, or not enough of something to make it taste good,” he chuckled.

Ian smiled, but then it faded, “Alright. This is something only my family and close friends know about..”

Loki immediately turned his attention away from a bird nest and to his friend, his attention was entirely on Ian. “What is it?..”

Ian swallowed a bit of saliva that gathered at the back of his throat, “..I like.. guys. To an extent-! I mean, I like girls, but I also sometimes got a crush on the occasional guy at school,” his face started getting a bit redder by the second as he rambled, “I don’t know how you or people in general here in Skyrim- I mean anywhere in Tamriel react to those who have interests in people the same gender as them-”

Ian’s stuttering was cut off by a, “I’m like that too!” From Loki. He looked over to the Dunmer, who was smiling widely. “I like both men and women too! You don’t have anything to worry about, no one will hate you just because your loins point a certain direction!”

“That’s a weird way to say ‘You are accepted’,” Ian chuckled.

Loki grinned, “That’s what a Khajiit friend told me when I came out to her,” a blush swept over his face, “But I want to know if-”

The familiar shape of Whiterun caught Ian’s attention from the corner of his eye, “Hey, isn’t that Dragonsreach? I’ll race you to the stables!” He pointed to the towering keep in the distance.

Loki halted what he was saying previously. He nodded, “There’s no way you’re winning this time, Ian!” He responded as he gripped Skadi’s reins.

———

As the two Elves walked through the large gates of Whiterun, Loki held Ian in a playful headlock. “That wasn’t fair, you used that spell on Alfsigr again!” He exclaimed.

Ian laughed, he pulled his head out of his companion’s grip, “I’m going to go say hi to Danica. Are you going to stock up in the meantime?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I’m going to have my sword sharpened, stock up on potions and food, buy you a needle and thread, visit Jorrvaskr for a drink...” he listed off on his fingers, “Oh! What color do you prefer? White? Black? Red?”

“White’s fine. I’ll meet you at the Bannered Mare?”

“Sure. Don’t get eaten by a vampire!” Loki teased.

Ian ignited a small flame at his palm, “I’ll be fine,” he responded with a small grin. The orange fire flickered out as he stuffed his hands into his robe’s pockets and walked through the marketplace.

Finding the Temple of Kynareth was easy. He remembers the gorgeous, tall tree from when he took his first steps of freedom from the bandits. The branches extended out like arms, and it’s pink leaves stood strong even in the winter month of Morning Star. As he approached the doors to the temple, a knot of anxiety tied itself in the pit of Ian’s stomach. It’s been a while since he’s seen Danica and Acolyte. Would they be happy to see him? Would they be too busy to meet up with him? The mage took a deep breath in before exhaling. He entered the temple.

It’s as if nothing changed since he was last there. Dust particles still swam in the still air, his footsteps and the sound of the doors closing behind him echoed off the walls. “I’ll be there in a second!” A familiar voice echoed from another room, “Are you sick, or injured?” Danica Pure-Spring called.

“Danica? It’s me, Ian,” he responded.

The healer walked out of the room she was in. Her hood was down, and he could see her blond hair was held up in a messy bun, “Ian?” She asked with a surprised face. She immediately rushed over, “It’s so good to see you again! The last I heard of you was that you decided to travel with the Dovahkiin!” She embraced the Elf in a hug.

“I’m glad to see you too,” he chuckled, “We’re stopping by to get some supplies, so I wanted to meet up with you again. How are you doing?”

———

Loki entered Jorrvaskr, with a sack of supplies hauled over his shoulder. The atmosphere was warm, and his ears were filled with chatter. Loki saw that his fellow Shield-Siblings were dining on various kinds of food. As he approached the long table built around the fireplace, he could smell venison, baked potatoes, goat, and beef.

“Did you smell the food from Winterhold?” Aela questioned, not even turning around to face her friend as she bit into a cooked goat’s leg. She probably smelled him and heard the door close behind him.

“No, but that sure smells good, did any of you leave any good stuff for me?” He responded. He dropped the sack and took a seat between the firey archer and Vilkas.

Vilkas gave the Harbinger a small smile, “We started eating about thirty minutes ago. If you want a venison loin, you’ll have to fight Farkas for it. Not that you’ll be able to bite through that cut with your whelp teeth,” he teased.

Loki huffed at the twin brother before pulling some baked potatoes and cooked beef onto a mostly clean plate, “Man, I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I got here. I would go look for Ian so he could have some, but then y’all would eat everything before we return,” he said as he made a second plate to save for the Elf.

“Who’s Ian? A new friend of yours?” Farkas asked through a mouth of meat.

“He’s the blue skinned Mer that came through here the last time I was here. That wooden staff was his,” Loki told the Nord. He bit down on the cooked beef hungrily.

“Ah, yes, I briefly saw him before having to break up Athis and Njada’s brawl. Looked more like a scared rabbit than a potential follower,” Aela responded.

Loki rolled his eyes, “He’s matured as a fighter, and he does have potential to be a future dragon slayer in my eyes.”

The red headed woman let out a sharp, but tame guffaw, “A dragon slayer?” She queried.

“I’m serious! He’s incredibly powerful and a quick thinker when put in a battle. You would be surprised at the spells he can cast using that staff!”

“You talk quite highly of him. Almost as if he’s more than just a traveling companion,” Vilkas teased as he cut himself a slice of apple pie laying across from him.

A red blush spread across his face, he tried hiding the blush, but Aela the Huntress took notice of his flushed face. “I’ve never seen you so flustered. Did Vilkas hit the nail on the head?” She asked. Her eyes blazed with interest.

Loki let a small growl escape his throat, Akatosh forbid if anyone outside of the circle hears about this conversation. “He’s.. _close_ ,” he growled as he shoveled some of the baked potato into his maw.

“Aww, that’s adorable~” Vilkas teased. Loki shot him a glare in return. The jackass loves to tease his little Shield-Brother.

Farkas looked up from the leg he moved onto after wolfing down the loin, “What’s adorable?”

“Loki has his eye on a certain someone,” Aela told Farkas.

Apparently, it was loud enough for Torvar to hear. He looked up from his tankard of mead, “Loki is into someone?!” He barked. Every other conversation in the halls of Jorrvaskr were silenced in an instant.

“What?” Athis questioned.

“Loki, is this true?” Ria asked. 

“No! Torvar misheard some things!” Loki’s voice cracked, and his red ears and face gave him away. Soon enough, the entire hall’s silence was replaced with teasing directed entirely at their young Harbinger.

“That’s so precious! Who’s the lucky lad or lady?” The second youngest Companion queried.

“When’s the wedding?”

“When do we get to meet them?”

Loki growled, “Will you assholes shut up!?” He hissed at his Shield-Siblings.

Njada gasped slightly. Her face contorted mischievously, “He hasn’t even told them yet. He’s a lovesick puppy!”

The Dunmer groaned and hit his head against the table, “I hate all of you..”

Aela sighed, “Why don’t you tell him you like him?”

Loki bit down on the insides of his cheeks, “A number of reasons. Up until earlier today, I thought he wasn’t into men, but now I’m afraid he won’t think the same way and not want to travel with me anymore,” he explained over the sea of teasing he was receiving from his Shield-Siblings.

The Nord woman took a sip from her tankard of mead, “Think of it like this, a hunter may miss the target, but he will never kill his prey if he doesn’t shoot the arrow from his bow,” she explained to the mage, “Just shoot your shot, Loki, tell him how you really feel, if he doesn’t reciprocate feelings, it’s his loss he won’t face the world by your side.”

———

By the time Ian and Danica were finished catching up, the sun had been nearly swallowed by the horizon. He descended down some stone stairs and into the marketplace. It was nearly empty, with the occasional passerby. Ian threw up his hood, and rubbed his arms in an effort to warm himself up. It’s cold outside. He looked around to see if Loki is anywhere. _‘Maybe he went inside?’_ Ian thought to himself. _‘Even if he isn’t, I’ll just go in, warm up a little, and then come back..’_

Ian entered the Bannered Mare, and immediately he felt the cold wash off of him like water. He sat down at one of the benches near the fire. A lot of people were gathered at the inn, a lot he could recognize. He could recognize the Redguard named Brenuin was downing an entire bottle of ale as if it were water. Ian closed his eyes, just enjoying the tune played by the flute and the people’s chatting. A lot has happened today.. he got attacked by slaughterfish, then saved by Loki, he met Sissel, he told Loki something he would only trust a few people with..

Loki...

From the beginning, Loki has been nothing but a savior to him. He’s never been malicious, nor hurt him. He goes out of his way to make sure he is getting settled comfortably in a world vastly different from his home. Ian is sure that he would never get as far as he had gotten without Loki’s help. A faint blush spread across his face. His thoughts wandered to his smile, his bright, blue eyes, and his white locks that are no doubt soft to the touch. Every time he smiled, he always felt warm deep down.. why hasn’t he ever thought about _why_ he feels that way?..

His thoughts were interrupted when a figure sat next to him rather clumsily. The bench bent around his weight. The Elf opened his eyes. He looked to the side to face a large, burly man who reeks of mead. The Nord man smiled crookedly, “Well, hello there, young lady~” he purred.

Ian winced, “Umm..” he had no idea how to respond. This man thinks he is a woman.. Is he really that feminine? Maybe to a drunk..

“Would you like a drink- on me?” He asked, hiccuping half way through his sentence, and held out a bottle of mead he was drinking. Ian shook his head. How does he tell this giant of a man he isn’t a woman and to leave him alone? “I’ve never seen you around here. Are you a traveler?”

“Uh.. yeah..?”

“So am I! I’m a mercenary, been one for the past..” he counted on his hand, “..Four years! You look very small, do you have a husband where you’re from?”

Loki swallowed a knot at the back of his throat, “Ehm.. I’m not..” he mumbled, trying to explain himself.

“You’re not married?! Blasphemy!” He barked. His mead swished about in it’s glass bottle as he swung his arm, “Any man who sees you- is blessed by the Nine!” He hiccuped.

“No- No, I’m..” he was about to pull down his robe’s hood, but someone behind him already pulled it down swiftly.

“Hey, buddy. You’re right on that last part, but you’re talking to a boy,” Loki’s familiar voice jabbed. Ian looked up to see his face was one of irritation and feigned friendliness.

The man started blubbering apologies, and immediately stood up to return to his friends, who were cackling at his encounter. Loki gently grabbed Ian’s wrist and led him out of the inn and into the freezing cold, “C’mon, Ian. I have a better place for us to rest for the night,” he told his companion.

_‘You’re right on that last part..’_

Halfway through the plaza the Gildergreen resides in, Ian pulled against Loki, causing him to stop. “Is something wrong?” The Dunmer-Falmer asked the blue skinned mage.

“..T-Thanks for helping me out back there, but what did you mean by, ‘You’re right on that last part’?”

Loki’s breath hitched. He looked to the side as a streak of red dusted his cheeks, “You telling me you are also drawn in by boys got me thinking since..” he mumbled. “Can I ask you one thing? No matter what, don’t let anything I say here be a detriment to our friendship,” he queried.

Ian cocked a brow, “Alright?..”

“..If you were to spend the rest of your life with someone, here in Skyrim, who would it be?..”

Ian’s face flushed pink, “W-Well, I don’t know a lot of people in Skyrim, so.. I can’t really say!..” he told his companion. That was a lie that rolled off his tongue as if it were a truth. He wanted to say he would pick Loki. Who wouldn’t?

He wasn’t fully prepared for what came out of his friend’s mouth next.

Loki cleared his throat, “Well, I do know a lot of people. I’ve met people from all different walks of life, and..” he took a deep breath. _‘Just shoot your shot, Loki, tell him how you really feel..’_ , “..O-Out of all of them, I would want to spend the rest of my days, no matter how numbered they are, with you..”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha Loki finally confesses!! And it only took around twenty chapters >:D!


	27. Giving it a Shot

There was nothing but pure silence in the air. Ian’s jaw was loose upon hearing what Loki said. He wasn’t sure if what he heard was true or if he misheard. Loki himself was quiet, silently praying to the Nine in his head.

“You.. really mean that?” He finally asked.

Loki swallowed saliva that built up at the back of his throat. He nodded, “What do you think? Please don’t leave because of my feelings!” He implored.

It all made more sense to him now. How he sleeps in the same bed with him, he fonds over him like he is gold in his eyes, and says he is happy to have him as his companion. The Dunmer-Falmer shook his head, “R-Regardless, I want you to have this!” He pulled out a small, brown box, and handed it to the Elf.

Ian opened the top, seeing a needle with a spool of white thread. “Loki..” Ian stepped forward to hug the mage, which caused the Mer to shakily bring his arms around his companion in response.

“You’re freezing..” Loki mumbled. He pulled away, “C’mon, I have a place that we can stay in..” he grabbed Ian’s hand and led him to Jorrvaskr, he looked back at the Elf he’s absolutely smitten with. “Ignore the people in there, they found out about my..” he looked for a word to describe that dinner, “..Affinity for you.”

Although he has been in Jorrvaskr once before, the place feels entirely alien to Ian. Many weapons were hung up on plaques and displayed for all to see, and the large table surrounding a fireplace in the middle of the room was littered with mostly eaten food. A few of the intimidating warriors in the great hall wiggled their eyebrows at the two upon seeing the blue Elf. Loki shot them a glare and made a cutting motion with his hand across his throat as he led Ian down a set of stairs. Loki opens a door for Ian, and through the door is another hall with quite a few doors on the sides, no doubt leading to bedrooms.

He followed Loki into a room at the end of the hall, which then led to a master bedroom. “Is this your room?” He asked Loki as he looked at the many pelts, armor, and weapons in display cases.

“In a way. It’s the room the Harbinger of the Companions immediately inherits upon becoming Harbinger.”

“Is that the leader?”

Loki shakes his head. He sits on the edge of the soft bed, “No, the Harbinger acts more as the councilor of the Companions and offers insight. The Companions don’t have a leader.”

It was quiet for a moment. Loki kept his eyes diverted from Ian’s face, for he fears that if he looks up, Ian would be scared away by his feelings. Ian instead sat down next to him, “How long have you had feelings for me?” He asked.

“I.. I’ve always felt a pull towards you, but I never knew why until that snowball fight,” he answered. He stood up and walked to the door, “Feel free to get comfortable in the bed, Tilma always fixes the bed the next day.”

“You’re not staying?”

Loki turned his head to look at Ian. His eyes were widened, “You.. want me to stay? After my confession?”

Ian nodded, “I don’t mind us still being in the same bed,” he offered his hand to the Dunmeri mage. Begrudgingly, Loki inched closer to Ian, and let him take his hand. The two got in bed, with Loki staying on the far end while the older Elf had nearly the entire bed. Ian narrowed his gaze at the Mer, “Why are you being so distant? at least come to the middle of the bed,” he asked.

He flinched, and scooted closer to the Elf. “I just.. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. You never really told me whether you are interested back..”

Ian’s eyes softened. He laid his head down on Loki’s chest, which in turn invoked a jump out of the mage, “W-What are you doing?!” He exclaimed, although quietly.

“Can we talk more about this tomorrow? You’re really comfy..” Ian mumbled. Listening to Loki’s racing heartbeat was enough to make him drift to sleep. In a way, it was comforting, even if it was beating incredibly fast.

“Ian?..” Loki didn’t get a response. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. _‘Shit..’_ he thought to himself, _‘I need to pee...’_

———

The road to Riften had been silent. Ian looked over to Loki, who has been very quiet since his confession last night. His gaze was focused on the road, but it was obvious he was deep in thought.

Loki finally said something, “So.. Ian..” he looked to his side at his companion. “..What are we? Are we courting? Are we still friends? Do you even like me the same?..”

Ian cleared his throat, “I’m not really sure, Loki. I’ve always been charmed by you, from when we first started traveling,” he let out a nervous chuckle, “I mean, I was bound to fall for you at one point, so why don’t we give it a shot?..”

“So does that mean?..” his voice trailed off when he spotted a series of towers ahead of them. The Valtheim Towers, once a fort, now a ruin that houses bandits.

A bandit was stationed outside of the towers, and drew a pitiful, jagged dagger upon seeing the two mages and their horses. “Hold, travelers!” He barked. “This is a toll road! Unless you pay up about, say.. two hundred gold, you better turn back to where you came from!”

Loki narrowed his eyes, “Two hundred gold, to walk down a road?” He questioned.

“Yeah. Don’t have the coin?” The Nord grunted.

“No..” Loki’s hand rested on the pommel of his sword, but a glance at Ian caused him to release his grip. “How does fifty sound?” He asked.

The marauder thought about it. He shared a glance with the two Elves, and the shiny, black blade that rested at the Dunmer’s hip. “..Fine. You look like you’re more trouble than you’re worth, just get out of here before I change my mind,” he huffed as Loki dropped a small purse of fifty septims into his open hand.

They continued on. As they rode down the tall slope and past the waterfall the towers rested over, Loki looked over to Ian. His face was twisted into one of concern, “Are you sure you want to be with someone like me, Ian?”

Ian frowned, “What do you mean? I said I wanted to give this a try, didn’t I?”

“Y-Yeah, you did, and I know that, but you know how I am. I can be dangerous, and that along with being a complete dumbass is a bad combination,” he mumbled.

Ian chuckled softly, “Where’s that confidence you’ve always had? Did you leave it at Whiterun?”

Loki huffed softly, “I’m just unsure about how to go about with this. I’ve never been in a relationship before, have you?”

He shook his head, “Not really,” it was quiet for a bit, “Think of this, Loki. We will start off slow, and over time we will get more intimate. And if things don’t work out, no harm will come to our friendship, deal?” He offered.

The younger mage smiled faintly, “Deal.. but how exactly do you want us to start off. How does your world go about with relationships? If you were Tamrielan, I would wear an amulet of Mara and hope that you like me enough to marry.”

Ian’s eyes widened, “Straight to marriage? Not even a date?”

“Dates? Well yeah, marriage is planned on a specific date. What, did you think proposal, marriage, and passionate love making happens in the same day?”

A red blush spread across Ian’s face, “No, not that kind of date! In Yore, there are some events where a couple will go out and do things together, like watch a movie or go to the park. The average time a couple would date, or be in a relationship before marriage is an option is about a year or two,” he informed the Dunmer.

“I have no idea what a ‘movie’ is, but _two years?!_ ” Loki exclaimed. He chuckled, “Ok, now see, for most adventurers or those who are always in danger, living for more than two years outside a city is rare, but to form a relationship for two years _before_ marriage?”

“Well, People usually don’t live in dangerous forests and fight monsters in my world, so two years is a respectable time to get to know one another before deciding whether you want to spend the rest of your life together,” Ian huffed.

Loki chuckled, “Ok, so I just have to keep you alive for two years before anything happens..”

“You can always teach me how to properly use a dagger, or how to cast the more potent spells.”

“Patience, apprentice and significant other, teaching you dangerous spells right off the bat will exhaust you,” Loki snickered, mocking a low, old, mentor-like voice. “But the next time we rest somewhere, you can learn a new spell or two and I can teach you different strategies with holding a dagger.”

“About the spells, what was that tome that Sissel gave you?”

“This?” Loki pulled out the old spell book from his robes. “It’s an old lock opening spell. These spells started dying out around a couple hundred years ago after the Mages Guild disbanded.”

“Do you know the spell?”

Loki scoffed, “Pfft, no. Even if I did, I wouldn’t ever use it since I’m already good at picking locks physically,” he cocked an eyebrow, “What, do you want to learn it instead?”

“Well, I mean.. it intrigues me. I don’t know how to pick locks, but I wouldn’t mind you teaching me-” 

Loki leaned over to Ian while on horseback and plopped in into his hands. “It would be best if you knew this spell,” he said.

Magical energy was teeming from the very hardcover of the old tome Ian held in his hands. He wasn’t sure whether the warmth in the book came from being in Loki’s robes, or due to it’s magical pages within, “Are you sure?”

Loki nodded. “How about we stop here? There’s a pond nearby so the horses can get a drink and you can read a book or two,” he told the Elven mage as he steered Skadi off of the main path and onto a dirt one, which led to a crystal clean pond with many fish swimming about. After sliding down from Allie’s back, Ian sat by the pond and flipped the book open. He completely forgot about the flash of light that would ensue, and when his eyes were once again blinded, Ian hissed in pain as his hands shot up to shield them. He rubbed his eyes as his vision returned, and upon looking at the ground where the book originally laid, there was a pile of dust that began to blow away in the wind.

_Open Average Lock_

Ian rubbed one of his eyes as he stood from his spot and looked around. Loki was nowhere to be found. “Loki?” He called out.

The Dunmeri mage walked out from behind a few trees, holding a couple chunks of honeycomb, “You called?”

Ian tilted his head a little, “Whatcha got there?” He asked.

Loki held up one of the combs to the blue skinned Elf, “Honeycomb, I got it from a nearby beehive. Here, I got one for you,” he hummed as he took a bite out of his own.

He took the honeycomb and nibbled on the edge of the honey glazed treat, “How come a swarm of bees aren’t tailing you?”

“I used the calming spell I used on those slaughterfish. They won’t be coming after us for a while. Did you read the book?”

He nodded, “Yeah, is there a use for that dust?” Ian asked. He tore off a piece of the honeycomb for Alfsigr.

“No, not really. But, at the College, tome dust is sometimes used for the occasional prank by fellow students,” he sat down by the edge of the pond, “I once walked under a door that was supporting a sack of the stuff, and I was dusted grey by the prank intended for a friend. I looked like a ghost!” He chuckled.

Ian giggled, “Did you find out who did it?” He finished off the honeycomb.

“Ugh, it was this Khajiit named J’zargo, and like I said, it was intended for a fellow student who stepped on his tail.”

“Do you like the College of Winterhold? Do you think I should join when we have the chance?”

Loki smiled, “Of course I like the College, it has plenty of great people and mentors! I would definitely recommend it to you, considering you have a high aptitude for it,” Loki shoved the rest of the treat into his mouth and stood from the ground, “Come at me with your dagger, I want to see how you hold it!” He said.

“You want me to attack you?” Ian rose to his feet and pulled out the shiny, but small blade.

“How else am I going to see your form?” Loki chuckled, “I honestly don’t think you will hurt me, and if you do, I can easily heal myself.” Ian huffed. His grip tightened around the handle, and he charged forward with the dagger raised. He was reluctant, but he slashed down at his companion with a sharp cry. His arm was grabbed by Loki, halting the attack immediately. “You did two things wrong,” he started before pushing his arm back to it’s owner, “You don’t raise your blade until you actually strike. It makes that arm a bright red target, and your likely to lose it to a sharper blade, or magic. Second, you’re too focused on ‘killing’ me to know where you are and what I’ll do,” he stepped to the side, “If you were an enemy, I would have sidestepped you before impaling you on ice, it’s a common mistake in inexperienced fighters.”

Ian hummed, “How would you go about with a dagger?”

“Well, for starters..” Loki walked behind him and held his arms in a specific position, “I would keep my arms down and make myself as less of a target as possible. With two swords, you would hold one arm up for the purpose of balance, but since you are only wielding a mere dagger, you don’t need to. And for your body’s position..” his hands trailed down to his hips, invoking a blush from the Elf, “You want to always have your knees bent slightly, but that can apply to any blade.” He stepped away from Ian, “So, try to attack me again, and remember to be aware of your surroundings.”

Ian did what Loki said. He lowered his dagger, and bent his knees. As he charged at Loki again, he focused on his figure. His foot was parted to the side, which would predict he would try sidestepping him. What he didn’t take into account was his hand behind his back, and he didn’t realize his mistake until Loki drew his sword to deflect his dagger. In the counter attack, Ian’s dagger went flying out of his hand and onto the cold, damp ground a few feet away. In a moment of quick thinking, Ian’s palm set alight and he held his hand out to spew fire at Loki. The mage’s eyes widened, but he conjured a barrier in front of him in retaliation. The flames ran along the barrier, but the Mer did not get burned at all. Ian halted the fire and held his right hand close to his chest, “What kind of spell is that?” He asked Loki as the barrier dissolved in thin air.

“It’s a simple ward spell that I conjured in the second I saw you try to pull a fast one on me,” he waggled a finger at Ian as he went to go retrieve his dagger, “That trick doesn’t work on me! I’ve been blasted in the face by counter fire spells far too many times for it to surprise me anymore!” He chuckled.

Ian let out a soft chuckle of his own. He sighed as he sat by the pond and watched the fish. Loki took a seat next to him, “You did good, I wouldn’t have predicted that counter spell from you,” he hummed.

The Elf smiled softly, his cheeks dusted a soft pink. He scooted closer to Loki, “I’ve seen those kinds of fish before, are they common?” He asked as he pointed to the small animals in the pond.

Loki nodded, “Yeah, they’re very useful as alchemy ingredients,” he responded. He pointed to a bright orange one, “That’s a Histcarp. They are good for brewing stamina potions,” he then pointed to another one, a dark purple in color, “And that’s a River Betty. They are toxic when eaten raw, and are used in making potent vermin poison. I like using them because they are easy to find, but they taste horrendous..”

“How do you know they taste bad?” Ian queried. 

Loki stayed silent for a moment and just stared at his other half, “..I don’t know..”

Ian laughed and quickly stood up, “You’re gross! I’m not kissing you anytime soon!”

“Yeah, I figured that..” he chuckled. He followed after Ian, who was starting to look for Alfsigr, and left the fish to go about their day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bois are officially a thing ;w;!


	28. Eastmarch

Ian rubbed his sore eyes, having read Candlelight some time ago. The spell has burned itself at the back of his mind, and he would be lying if he said he isn’t itching to use it. Seeing Loki use it some days ago during their walk to Solitude was enough to excite him. Loki sees that his eyes are still agitated by the aftermath, and smiled softly, “You’ll eventually grow used to it..” he reassured him.

As they traversed through the dry and volcanic terrain that is central Eastmarch on horseback, Ian realized that his skin isn’t littered with goosebumps as it usually is. “It’s quite warm here, honestly, it feels a little weird..” he mumbled.

“Hmm?” Loki hummed. He turned his head to focus on Ian.

“It just feels oddly warm, which is something I don’t feel often.”

Loki chuckles, “It’s the seismic activity underground. It gets warmer the farther you are into this territory, and there are a lot of hot springs here,” he leaned over to him, “Just between you and me, I know a secluded hot spring that only I know about. Perhaps we can go there sometime~” he purred. 

Ian’s face flushed red, “M-Maybe, just not while we’re on our way back to report to Isran!” He exclaimed.

Loki snickered at the reaction he invoked from the blue Elf, “Anyway, about Isran and Fort Dawnguard, do you think that lot thinks we’re dead in a ditch somewhere? We haven’t returned in days, and we didn’t exactly send him a letter telling him we’re returning a vampire to her powerful, Vampire Lord of a father.”

“I hope they don’t come to that conclusion, it would be very awkward to return when everyone thinks you’re dead..”

Ian’s focus wandered to a rabbit some distance away from their path, nibbling at the very little grass in the volcanic terrain wearily. He could see how it’s nose twitched cautiously and it flinched at the smallest bug passing by.

The Dunmeri mage noticed Ian’s gaze on the rodent. “Hungry? I can catch it and cook it for you once we reach Fort Dawnguard,” he offers.

Ian shakes his head and furrows his brows, “No, I’m good. It just caught my attention is all..”

“Y’know, you kind of remind me of a rabbit..” Loki said to the Elven mage.

“Huh?..”

Loki chuckled, “I mean, you both have big, cute ears, and chocolate brown eyes,” he lists. “And color me odd, but you do have the same nervous mannerisms as a wary rabbit.”

The Elf scoffed. A blush spread from his cheeks to said ears, “I am not like a rabbit,” he crosses his arms stubbornly.

“You are! Not like that’s a _bad_ thing,” he grinned. His sharp canines glinted against the sunlight, “I think rabbits are cute, just like you, Bunny~”

“Is that my new name?” Ian rolled his eyes playfully.

“Just a little nickname. If you want, you can give me one too~” he purred.

He hummed, “I’ll have to think about it, not everyone can come up with such good names like you can.”

“I guess not..” Loki grinned softly and turned back towards their makeshift and rocky path.

About ten minutes of mutual silence go by as the two mages traverse through Eastmarch. It is when Loki spotted three figures ahead that he looks over to Ian, “Careful, incoming Thalmor..” he warned his other half.

“Thalmor?” Ian looked ahead and saw the figures more closely and clearly. There were three _very_ tall Elves, with two of them donning some sort of ugly golden armor and helmets, and the last one wore very dark and grand robes, with his head mostly covered by a hood.

As they passed by the three Elves, an aura of arrogance radiated off of them as they didn’t even acknowledge them or made eye contact. When they were out of earshot, Loki mumbles, “Fucking snobs..” he huffs.

“What’s up with you? They just seem to be going about their day.”

Loki’s eyes drooped to Skadi’s reins he held in his hands, “I forget you aren’t Tamrielan. The Thalmor are a bunch of inbred, snobby assholes that think they can dictate the people’s beliefs. It’s none of their damn business!” He ranted irritably. “The Thalmor are the very reason why Tamriel is so torn apart, especially Skyrim!”

“So that’s why you hate them..”

Loki chuckled, “If that was the only reason I detest those Altmer, I wouldn’t be so outspoken of them..” he continued, “My grandparents, especially my grandfather, were soldiers in the Great War. He was one of the very reasons why the Thalmor didn’t obliterate the Empire, and end the war right then and there. When the Thalmor discovered my grandfather was such a detriment to their war efforts, they dragged him off into the night and murdered him, leaving his wife a widow, and my mother fatherless for nearly her entire life..” Loki gripped her reins so tight that his knuckles started turning white, “Because of those selfish bastards, my mother never knew what a great man he was, and neither did I.. if I could get back at the soldiers who have his blood on their hands, I do it in a heartbeat!-”

Ian reached his hand over to Loki’s strained fists, “It’s ok, Loki.. there isn’t much that can be done now..”

Loki sighed and loosened his grip on the leather strap. He smiled grimly, “Don’t ever trust the Thalmor, Ian, they are ruthless, and don’t care how many people they hurt as long as they get what they want..”

“I promise..”

———

Ian gave Alfsigr a small pat on the nose before leaving the horses at the Riften stable. He followed Loki in the same path as last time. “So why are we leaving the horses behind instead of going to the cave opening and having them wait there?” He asked the Dunmer.

Loki points to the sun, which has been swallowed by the horizon halfway. “Lots of nasty creatures come out at night that would make short work of the horses, such as frostbite spiders, wolves, trolls, the occasional saber cat..” he listed off on his hand. He shrugged as he kicked a pebble down the path, “Besides, they deserve the much need rest after walking most of the day. Skadi gets cranky if she doesn’t have a nice place to sleep after a day like this,” he chuckled.

Out of nowhere, something causes the mage to stop in his tracks. “What is it?” Ian asked.

“Something smells off..” his nose twitched. He suddenly pushed Ian away from him just in time for a figure clad in black and red to appear out of nowhere and stab a dagger into his neck.

“ _Loki!_ ” Ian cried out upon seeing him drop to the ground and attempt to stop the crimson liquid from gushing from his neck. The blue Elf snarled, “Get away from him!” As he lit his palm aflame and fired a Flames spell at the attacker.

The figure, which judging from their tail, he can make a guess is an Argonian, hissed at the firey attack and turned her attention to Ian. It was at that moment that his Flames dissipated, and when he tried to reignite his palm, nothing came of it other than a brief flicker. When he looked up, a pair of dangerously bright, yellow eyes were focused on him. Loki’s blood dripped from the green and gnarled blade they held in their hand. Ian quickly drew his staff from it’s holster and pointed it at the darkened sky and traced half a moon before yelling, “ _Wynda Zephyria!_ ”

A sharp wind blew in from behind Ian and pushed the assassin backwards. She nimbly retreated back into the shadows with a sharp hiss.

Loki had regained enough consciousness from the blood he lost to see the same assassin appear from behind Ian as he rushed to his aid, much to the Elf’s obliviousness. He had to think of something, and warning Ian would take up too much time. Though he initially coughed up some blood, he was able to breathe in and roar out, “ ** _Fus, Ro, Dah!_** ”

A shockwave of an unseen force throws Ian and the Argonian assassin back and into the brick railing. Upon colliding into the bridge, protected by the impact by the Argonian’s scaly body, Ian heard a sharp _crunch_ from behind him. When he turned his head to see the source of the sound, he saw the assassin was still as death, and her head leaned to the side. The railing where her head collided was splattered with blood. The crimson liquid dribbled from the back of her skull.

Ian wasted no time rushing back to Loki, who laid on the ground, with his hands and arms basically painted red with his own bodily fluid. Ian began to panic, he doesn’t know how to heal him, and the very little breathing his boyfriend was making doesn’t help. He then started thinking of all the times Loki has healed him. He’s used a healing spell, but he doesn’t know any healing spells! He also remembered that he used various different kinds of organic material like wheat...

Wheat!

Ian opened Loki’s satchel and fished around for any wheat, and luckily found a couple ears among the varieties of dried flowers, moss, and even insects. He pushed the weakened Dunmer onto his back and pushed the wheat past his bloody lips. Loki, thankfully, was able to chew on the plant and force it down his iron tinted throat.

“This is my fault.. if I wasn’t so careless, Loki wouldn’t have gotten hurt!..” he chided himself. He gripped his blue, curly locks as tears stung his eyes, “If I just looked around and been more careful!..”

“Ian..” Loki coughed as he sat up shakily. He casted a healing spell that enveloped his wound and sealed it up almost immediately, all there was now was blood beginning to dry. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know..” he leaned over to his other half and enveloped him in a hug.

“I should have been more careful! You lost so much blood!..” tears slid down his face as he hugged him back tightly.

“Nothing a warm meal and some sleep can’t fix,” he chuckled softly. He leaned away to brush Ian’s tears away with a gloved thumb, “And you remembered that wheat is good for healing and a quick boost of energy, which is far past amazing! I had to write down the effects of different ingredients so I wouldn’t forget for quite a while.”

“So you’re ok now? Nothing was damaged long term?”

“Well.. there’s probably going to be a scar there now..” he rubbed the area where he was stabbed, now just a sore spot, “But other than that, all good!” He gave a thumbs up to Ian. He tried standing, but stumbled a little. He chuckled, “I may also be a little sore and tired..”

Ian stood up alongside him and helped him steady his first few steps. He looked over at the body, “Who is that even?”

Loki scowled at the black and red leather, “A Dark Brotherhood assassin..” he walked over to the Argonian and felt over the body for a small pouch of gold. 

“The Dark Brotherhood?”

“A group of cult-like assassins that have been around for centuries, but they are starting to slowly dissipate into common cutthroats..” he pocketed the septims, but also noticed a note in her pocket. He read the note.

_As instructed, you are ordered to eliminate Lokithur, no matter the cost. The Black Sacrament has been preformed, and this mere child has evaded Sithis several times. He is skilled in the arcane arts, and wields an ebony sword exceptionally well. You may keep the sword along with the payment if you send this fool to the void._

_Do not fail._

Loki’s blue orbs stared down the black ink against yellowed parchment paper. he ripped it in half before letting the paper flutter to the ground in front of the assassin.

“Why would an assassin be after _you_ of all people?” Ian asked as they continued on through the bridge over the stream, and left the body to be discovered by traveling merchants.

“I don’t know, some people just won’t like you, no matter what you do,” Loki shrugged.

“What was in the paper you ripped up? And what was that spell you used back there?”

Loki cocked a brow, “What spell?”

“The one where you yelled really loudly and sent that Argonian and I flying! In Dimhollow, you used spells similar to it where you yelled certain words, and certain things happen. You said you would explain them, but you never really did..”

“Oh, you’re talking about my Shouts!”

It was Ian’s turn to cock an eyebrow, “A Shout?”

“Yeah! They are also called the Thu’um by Dragons.”

“But what are they? They work similar to my staff’s spells, with how I say a certain word or two with my ‘heart’s fire’,” Ian queried.

“They are the Dragons’ language, how they breathe fire or ice is through the Thu’um, and only those with the soul of a Dragon can Shout so easily, like me!” He pointed to himself with a grin.

Ian shook his head playfully, “It’s hard to take you seriously when you say that Tamriel’s Dragons have their own language, and you have the soul of a Dragon,” he chuckled. “I immediately think of Blazey and her trying to set the mailman on fire!”

“How big is your pet dragon?” Loki asked as they finally reached the opening to Dayspring Canyon.

Ian thought on it for a second as Loki wedged himself through the crevice. He followed after him shortly afterward, “Uh, I’d say, from head to the end of her tail..” he held his hands out widely in an effort to estimate the size of his beloved pet dragon.

Apparently, that wasn’t big enough, and Loki let out a hearty laugh. “That’s as big as a dog! Not very impressed!” He laughed.

Ian punched him lightly in the shoulder, “Oh shut up! She was still growing when I was thrown into this world!”

“Yeah right, one of the Dragons here in Skyrim would make an appetizer of her!”

He huffed, “Whatever..” although annoyed, he let a small grin show.

A few crows in the trees above cawed at the passing Elves, causing Ian to shudder and throw up his hood. Something is off..

His suspicions were proven correctly when in the distance, Fort Dawnguard was alight with fire and distant yelling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fus- Force  
> Ro- Balance  
> Dah- Push


	29. Aurora

Loki dashed off into the direction of Fort Dawnguard. He unsheathed his sword, hearing a sharp _shing_ \- when he freed it from it’s sheath.

“Loki! Wait!” Ian called out as he chased after him. “You’re still recovering from that attack!”

“I’ll be fine, ready yourself for battle!” The Dunmeri mage called back. He ran through the gates, seeing a multitude of vampires strewn about, with their bodies already starting to revert to dust. He growled to himself as he ran farther into the courtyard. He saw Agmaer struggling to fend off a vampire. The monster hissed at the Nord as the crossbow Agmaer held was the only thing stopping him from getting his throat ripped out.

Loki swung his sword at his head, beheading the vampire with a sickening rip. The headless corpse fell back onto the ground with a thud. “Loki, you’re back!” The Nord chimed.

“What, you think I’d let you lot have all the fun?” Loki responded with a laugh.

Agmaer loaded a bolt into his crossbow, “Well, you and Ian did take a while to get back, I almost thought you chickened out! Where is he anyway?” He asked when he realized Ian wasn’t glued to Loki’s side like he usually is.

“Right here!” Ian panted as he caught up with his boyfriend. He was almost completely out of breath. He had his staff drawn, and leaned on it for support as he caught his breath.

“So, how many of them are here?” Loki asked the vampire hunter. They paced rather quickly through the training grounds, which were set on fire and were currently being put out by fellow hunters.

“I counted twenty that made it through the gates. We’ve almost stomped them out, but I fear they have cut a few of us down..”

The Dunmer hummed. His free palm flickered with arcane fire when he saw the last of the fiends fighting against Isran and a few others. “Go help the others put out the fires, Ian and I will help Isran,” he told the blonde before running up the grassy slope to the fort resting above. Ian followed after him with his staff in hand. 

Loki lunged forward with his sword in one hand, fire spell in another. He fired a Firebolt at a male vampire attempting to apprehend Durak.

Ian looked over to see two vampires starting to overwhelm Celann. He narrowed his eyes and pointed his staff at the monsters, “ _Flame Infernar!_ ”

A bright ember shot from the staff and set the pale man alight. He cried out in pain, and in the distracted effort to put out the flames, neglected his fellow vampire, who was slain by the Breton. His skull was cracked open by his axe when he swung it down onto the vampire.

Upon slaying the last of the vampires, Isran looked around at the courtyard, which is now badly burnt. He stomped out a flower that was burnt to a crisp by the fire, “I should have known they would find us out. We should have been more discreet with recruiting..” he grumbled as he approached Ian and Loki. “I don't suppose you have some good news for me,” He said to the two Elves.

Loki scratched the back of his neck, “We have news, but I wouldn’t call it _good_..”

“Of course. Why did I suppose differently? Fine, tell me what you know,” he responded with a sigh.

“There was a woman trapped in Dimhollow, and the vampires wanted to find her.”

“A woman?” Isran queried. “Trapped in there? That doesn't make any sense. Who is she? More importantly, where is she?”

“Uhh.. we kind of.. took her back to her castle..”

“I'm waiting to hear what any of this means,” Isran grunted impatiently.

Ian spoke up, “H-Her dad is a powerful vampire lord.”

The Redguard narrowed his eyes, “And so you two delivered her to them.”

“They also.. have this thing called an Elder Scroll-”

“They _what?_ ” Isran exclaimed suddenly, causing Ian to flinch, “And you didn't stop them? You didn't secure the scroll?”

“Isran, there were a _lot_ of vampires in that castle. We were like sheep in a lions’ den,” Loki spoke up for the meeker of the two. “We were lucky her father was generous enough to let us go mostly unharmed.”

The leader of the Dawnguard pinched the bridge of his nose, “Right. So they have this woman, and an Elder Scroll. By the Divines, this couldn't get much worse. This is more than you and I can handle..”

“We should do something about it before they get much stronger,” Loki responded.

“Well of course we should. I'm old, not stupid,” he huffed, “We're just going to need some help. If they're bold enough to attack us here, then this may be bigger than I thought. I have good men here, but... There are people I've met and worked with over the years. We need their skills, their talents, if we're going to survive this. If you can find them, we might have a chance.”

“Where are we going to find them?”

“Right to the point, aren't you? I like that. Not like those fools in the order. We should keep it small. Too many people, and we'll draw unwanted attention to ourselves. I think we'll want Sorine Jurard. Breton girl, whip-smart and good with tinkering. Fascination with the Dwemer, weapons in particular. Last I knew, she was out in the Reach, convinced she was about to find the biggest dwarven ruins yet.”

The mage cocked a brow, “And she would help us?”

Isran nodded, “Might need a little convincing, but she should. You'll also want to find Gunmar. Big brute of a Nord, hates vampires almost as much as I do. Got it into his head years back that his experience with animals would help. Especially trolls, from what I hear. Last I knew he was out scouring Skyrim for more beasts to tame. Bring the two of them back here, and we can get started on coming up with a plan.”

“Sounds good. We’ll be staying the night here and leave in the morning.”

“Clean yourself up first. You’re covered in blood and vampire dust, and you smell like a washed up horker,” Isran pointed to the Elf’s filthy body, which is splattered in blood and dust.

“I did intend on bathing in the lake down further in Dayspring Canyon..”

“Not in the lake, that’s where we fish,” Isran grunted, “There’s a bathhouse in the east wing, and a dirty clothes basket rests outside the door, which gets cleaned every morning.”

“Gotcha,” Loki chuckled. He walked up the stone steps of the fortress, “You coming Ian, or do you want to wait until we come upon a nice river to freshen up in?”

“Coming!” Ian followed after him. They walked into Fort Dawnguard, leaving the aftermath of the attack behind.

Their boots tapped against the old flooring as they walked to the bathhouse. “So, Ian..” Loki started.

“Hmm?”

“Would it be too early to bathe together, considering a lot of friends would bathe in a lake-”

“Too early!” He exclaimed. His face was dusted red.

“Ok, ok!” Loki chuckled and held his hands up in submission. “So do you want to go first? I can wait a bit for you to get used to how we bathe in Tamriel. How does your world go about with cleanliness?”

“Do you know what plumbing is?” Ian asked. He really hoped that the common citizen of Tamriel knows..

It took a minute for him to answer, “Oh! Yeah, the Dwemer came up with the idea to transport water and steam through pipes so they wouldn’t have to take several trips back and forth for water! Not all of Tamriel does, of course.”

“Oh.. so how do these bathhouses work?”

“It was a concept developed by the Imperials to use a communal pool or tub which is emptied and refilled every other day. It’s much safer to use than taking your chance in a river and get attacked by slaughterfish, but that doesn’t mean us constant travelers _don’t_ bathe in the river or lake.”

Ian’s ear twitched, “Regardless, it would be nice to get any dirt and grime off of me. I haven’t had a good shower in weeks..”

They reached the bathhouse, which looked more like a large bathroom to Ian, but when he stepped inside, there was only a ground pool and some neatly folded tunics. He assumed the ‘pool’ was where he would bathe himself, but when he dipped his hand in the water, he recoiled from how cold it was.

Loki kneeled down and swished his hand through the water, “Oh, that’s not too bad..” he mumbled.

“What do you mean? It’s freezing!”

“Probably not as cold as the lake down in the Canyon..” he responded. “Actually, you know what..” Loki conjured two fire spells and casted them over the water.

“What are you doing?..” Ian asked, confused on what his boyfriend is doing.

“Just seeing if I can warm up the water..” Loki looked over his shoulder as the fire spewing from his palms licked against the water’s surface. After a couple minutes, he recoiled his hands back. He rubbed his wrists, “Try feeling the temperature again, it should be warmer now.”

Ian dipped his hand in again, and felt a warm sensation as the liquid enveloped his hand. “W-Wow! It feels great!” He looked over to the Dunmer, “Thanks, Loki!” He smiled.

Loki blushed and smiled in return, “No problem, just don’t stay in there for too long, I want to stop smelling like blood and ash over here,” he joked on his way out. He closed the door behind him, leaving Ian in the dimly lit bathhouse, illuminated only by the torches lining the walls.

Ian stood in the silence for a little bit. He then started to undress himself. Starting with the robe, all the way down to his bare body. The blue Elf carefully descended into the pool’s water, being careful on to slip on the wet stone. Upon submerging his body up to his chest, he started scrubbing at the dirt and filth that has gathered around his neck, ears, armpits, and face. Ian noticed how dirty he was as the grime distributed into the water. He dipped his head back into the pool and started scrubbing his hair the best he can, considering he doesn’t have shampoo or conditioner to wash dirt out. He sighed contently as his muscles loosened up and warmth encompassed nearly his entire body.

———

Loki sat outside the bathhouse, on the steps leading up into it. He was undeniably, painfully bored..

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, a fluffy creature bounded up to him playfully. He only had a couple seconds to look over before a wet tongue was dragged against his cheek. He immediately knew it was a dog at that point. Regardless, he was happy to meet the canine. “Hey there! what’s your name?” He asked the armored pooch while giving him an ear scratch.

He didn’t notice someone was standing in front of him until he heard a woman’s voice, “His name is Tiberius, sorry, he ran up to you the minute we turned the corner,” she apologized as she knelt down to stroke Tiberius on the head.

“That’s alright, I love dogs!” Loki chimed. “What breed is he? Cyrodiil has similar looking dogs with their pointed ears, but his colors are completely off,” he asked. He ran his gloved hand through his red and white fur. It’s much more dense and fluffy than the usual dog he comes across, either in Skyrim’s wilds or a hunter’s companion. His eyes are also a bright, striking blue, akin to his own.

“He’s a husky! A rather new breed of dog that makes a great vampire hunter and tracker,” she responded. “Although, he’s still in training, and gets distracted very easy..”

Loki gave the dog a scratch under his ear, “I’m sure that if you tie a piece of beef to those vampires, he will go after them immediately,” he chuckled.

The Nordic woman guffawed, “Well, anyway, we better get going. It was good talking to you..” she didn’t know his name

“Loki,” he smiled. 

”Jorphka Red-Maiden,” Jorphka smiled, and held her hand out for Loki to shake. 

“Yeah!” He shook her hand.

The woman snapped her fingers to get Tiberius’ attention, “C’mon, boy!” she called as she began to walk off in the direction of the courtyard. The husky bounded after her happily.

Loki smiled, but it soon faded after he became bored again. He rested his chin on his hand. _‘Ian’s taking a little bit in there..’_ he thought to himself. He knocked on the door, “You almost done in there, Ian?”

“Yeah, just give me a few more minutes!” Ian responded from inside. The mage sat himself next to the door with a huff. His gaze wandered to the keyhole with light seeping from the hole. _‘What would be the harm in taking a quick peak?-’_ he cut his thoughts off. ‘ _What’s wrong with you?! You know better than that!_ ’ He reprimanded himself. He even bit down on his lip as some form of punishment for even _thinking_ of watching Ian bathe.

After a couple minutes of him being angry with himself, the idea returned, ‘ _He wouldn’t know, and even if he did, what’s the harm in a little peak?_ ’

He narrowed his eyes. ‘ _It’s wrong, and it would be violating his privacy. If he doesn’t want me to be in there with him, he wouldn’t want me watching him like some creep!_ ’

Loki continued to mentally debate with himself, his own morals. He didn’t even notice the door open and Ian walked out, wearing a clean tunic, and holding his balled up, dirty robes under his arm. “I’m finished, and the water was still pretty warm when I stepped out..” he said as he dumped his robes into the basket of dirty clothes. He noticed Loki’s face was red, “Why’s your face so red?” He looked over at the door, and noticed the door’s keyhole was wide enough for someone to look through. “We’re you spying on me?!” The elf exclaimed, his own face became red with embarrassment.

“What?! N-No! I promise, I wasn’t! I wouldn’t do that to you in good conscience!” Loki denied, he waved his hands in front of him submissively. Ian cocked a brow, face still red, which prompted Loki to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly, “O-Ok, don’t be mad- but the thought was tempting!” He defended himself. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t think of taking a glance at my toned muscles built up over the years of hauling bodies and swinging swords?” He grinned.

“Well.. now you have me thinking about it..”

“Ha! See, you’re not so innocent, yourself!” Loki stood up and pointed at the blue haired mage. “Not that I would blame you,” he started walking backwards into the bathhouse, “Oh, look, I’m walking into the bathhouse, I sure hope no one spies on me!~” he teased dramatically.

Ian scoffed, “You’re so dumb,” he chuckled, earning a small snicker from the Dunmer.

“Well, what are you going to do to pass the time? Count cobwebs and dust particles?” Loki asked as he leaned on the doorframe.

“I’m going to explore the fort and see what’s in it, so I’m going to be too busy to watch you slip and hurt yourself while getting in the pool.”

Loki huffed, “Alright then, don’t get yourself hurt. I’ll look for you when I’m done,” he said as he closed the door.

Ian smiled, and started walking to the main hall. The halls were accompanied by the occasional Dawnguard, and he even ran into the occasional black and white ‘husky’ as he was told they were. Ian ran his hand through his still damp locks and let out a breath of relief. Even though he didn’t really have anything to wash himself with, he feels much more clean and fresh after soaking in that pool.

He ascended up the stairs, and poked his head into the occasional room on the second floor. Mostly just sleeping quarters and storage rooms, but he did regret sticking his head into what he would only imagine as the torture room. There was what looked like a rack splattered with blood, with a table on the side holding an array of tools, all stained with blood as well. Ian immediately recoiled his head, and did his best to forget the sight. He forgets sometimes that he lives in such a cruel world such as Tamriel.

Ian saw a ladder leading to the roof. He climbed the ladder and saw the night sky was clouded and not showing any stars. It was chilly, but he stayed up there anyway. Ian pulled his knees up to his chest as he watched the clouds roll by, and occasionally let Masser poke out. The sky and cold air was enough to make him think about a memory of him and Barley..

———

_Ian felt a tap on his shoulder, prompting his chocolate brown eyes to open. He saw Barley standing at the side of his bed, he was grinning widely. “Barley?” The seven year old sat up and rubbed his eyes, “Is something wrong? Is momma alright?”_

_“Yeah, mom’s fine!” The excited ten year old whispered. He pulled at his little brother’s arm, “C’mon, you promised you would come watch the stars and moons with me this morning!”_

_This morning? Ian could recall Barley asking him for something early in the morning before school, where he was doing his homework, but he would be lying if he said he was paying attention to him._

_Ian didn’t have time to respond when Barley ushered him out of bed and downstairs, albeit quietly, as to not wake up their mom. He stood on his tippy toes to look out the window. “I-It’s snowing out there, Barley, I’ll freeze solid..” Ian pointed to the falling white powder outside._

_Barley hummed. He immediately thought of an idea and opened the closet to pull out a couple winter coats. He pulled the first one over Ian, letting him stick his arms through the puffy armholes. Ian was about to interject about Barley’s idea of ‘watching’ the stars while it was snowing- in the middle of winter- no less, but another parka was pulled over him. Upon poking his head out from the two layers of coats he was wearing, he looked at Barley, who smiled widely, “There! All nice and toasty!”_

_“Will we be able to even see the stars while it snows?”_

_Barley nodded, “I could see them from my window, so we should be able to see them!” He responded as he pulled out his own coat to throw over. He then led Ian outside, where a ladder sat resting against the house. Ian threw the two hoods over his head to protect his sensitive ears from the cold. “Mom forgot to take down the ladder when she put up the Christmas lights, so this is the perfect night to watch them from the roof.”_

_“The r-roof?!” Ian exclaimed, but was hushed by his big brother, “I-I can’t climb ladders! Why don’t we watch them from the porch?”_

_“We would be so much closer to the sky on the roof, silly.”_

_Ian kept quiet, but was terrified of the ladder that towered above him. It looked like a tower with how tall it is. “What if I fall?!” He questioned Barley, who had his foot on the first rung._

_He stepped down, he looked at Ian, then back at the ladder. He sniffed and rubbed his nose from the cold. “Oh! You could go first, so if you do slip, I’ll be able to catch you!”_

_Ian felt a little better upon hearing that. Reassured that his brother would be there to catch him, he took a shaky step onto the rung, and slowly started ascending up the ladder. He knew the saying, ‘Don’t look down!’ so he did his best to not look at how far up he was, and only looked down at his brother when he finally reached the top, and pulled himself onto the roof with an exhausted huff. Barley quickly climbed up the ladder to meet up with the tired Elf, who was struggling to sit up in his two layers of parkas. “You did it!” He said happily._

_“I did it..” Ian responded tiredly. He looked up at the sky, which, as he expected, was scoured with clouds. Only a couple stars could be seen in the mess of dark clouds and snowflakes. “The clouds are covering the sky..” he told his brother. His youthful face was contorted to one of annoyance. He was brought all the way out here, and he can’t even see the stars in their full glory._

_“You’re right..” Barley mumbled, disappointed. “Let’s wait a little bit for the clouds to pass. Until then, we can count the snowflakes instead!”_

_Ian sighed, but smiled nonetheless. He sat crisscross next to Barley and counted multitudes of snowflakes that fell on and around them..._

———

“You ok, Bunny?”

Ian was snapped out of his memory from years past and looked up at Loki, who sat down next to him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little homesick..” Ian mumbled. He noticed how shiny his hair is after a bath, and how he isn’t wearing his usual getup, and is instead wearing a brown tunic similar to Ian’s. The place where he was stabbed earlier was washed away of blood and dust, and instead a pink, jagged scar was plastered around his neck and collarbone. Ian reached his hand out to touch the scar, “It’s hard to believe that scar is only a few hours old..” he said.

Loki’s fingers traced over his hand, “Do you plan on coming down to the sleeping quarters so you can get a good night’s rest?” He asked.

Ian shrugged, “Maybe. I just wanted to see the stars for a bit, but the clouds aren’t going to let that happen.”

The Dunmer looked to the side, deep in thought. “I have a solution!” He smiled.

“What is it? Do you have a weather changing spell in that brain of your’s?”

Loki chuckled, “Something like that. Some old friends taught it to me,” he motioned to his pointy ear, “Cover your ears real quick, Ian. I don’t want to make you go deaf.”

Ian held his hands over his ears confusedly. Loki looked up to the sky, took a deep breath, and cried, “ _ **Lok, Vah, Koor!**_ ”

The shout carried off into the sky, and pushed the clouds away effortlessly. And with the clouds pushed away, the sky was speckles with stars, the two moons in full view, and an aurora surrounded the sky in it’s beautiful, blue and green light.

Ian widened his eyes in amazement at the sight. Maybe it was because many trees covered it’s true beauty, or because Loki is the reason he is seeing it himself, but this aurora was so much more beautiful than back in Riverwood, where he fell asleep watching one. “It’s.. gorgeous!..” Ian subconsciously wondered out loud.

Loki chuckled, “There are some that say the Thu’um brings out the beauty in nature, be it a dangerous storm, or a calm stag..” he responded.

He looked down at Ian’s hand. He was unsure whether to do it or not, ‘ _Agh, screw it.._ ’ his mind echoed, and he gently laid his hand on Ian’s. What he didn’t expect was for Ian to intertwine his hand in his and lean on him a little. He didn’t pull away though, and melted into the affectionate motion.

While the aurora’s lights danced in the sky alongside the stars, the two Elves sat on top of Fort Dawnguard, enjoying eachother’s warmth against the biting cold. As Ian’s eyes slowly fluttered closed, and his mind drifted to sleep, he wished this moment would last an eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’d y’all think about Tiberius? Is he the goodest of boys?
> 
> Lok- Sky  
> Vah- Spring  
> Koor- summer


	30. Skadi

Loki tapped his fingers against Skadi’s reins excitedly. Ian watched from the side with a confused expression on his face. What was he so excited about? They are just going to get Gunmar then move onto Sorine Jurard. He couldn’t keep to himself anymore, “Ok, what are you so excited about?” He asked Loki with a grin, “Is there something along the way that has you riled up?”

“Heck yeah! We’re going to Honeystrand Cave!” Loki responded. His mare’s ears perked up upon hearing the name. She tilted her head up, receiving a chuckle and a small pat on the head as a result. “No, girl, I don’t have any on me.”

“And what’s so special about Honeystrand Cave?”

Loki grinned, “As the name suggests, it’s known for being a big hotspot for beehives, and where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” he continued, “Honeystrand honey somehow tastes so much better than Goldenglow farmed honey, or that nasty stuff in Cyrodiil. In my opinion, Honeystrand makes the sweetest honey known to my taste buds. The best part being that there’s always an abundance.”

“If it’s so special, then why isn’t the place dried up from people taking it?” Ian asked.

“There’s also an abundance of bears, who are fiercely territorial. Only people like me can really go in there and leave with their lives. I’m pretty sure Gunmar’s only there for the bears, however.”

Ian hummed, “Is that why you brought a couple empty jars?”

Loki nodded, “Yup, I got one for you and I, and another for the horses, but mainly for Skadi since she loves the stuff,” he ruffled his steed’s mane, earning a huff from her.

He smiled, “I’m not sure if Allie has had any honey, but she might like it.”

“Well, she’s gonna have to fight Skadi if she wants any!” Loki chuckled.

Ian glanced at his boyfriend’s steed, whose sharp, black hooves clopped against the path as they walked, “How old is Skadi, anyway? I know it’s a weird question, but I’m just plain curious,” Ian asked.

Loki counted on both of his hands for a moment, “Skadi is fifteen, and she’ll be seeing her sixteenth summer this year!”

The blue Elf’s eyes were open with astonishment, “ _Fifteen_ years old?! She’s almost as old as I am!”

His boyfriend snorted, “Yeah, she’s starting to hit her older years. It’ll be a few more years before I take her to Solitude for retirement. She’ll help with pulling carts and carriages around, and I know someone who will make sure she lives out her twilight years comfortably.”

“You’ll still plan to visit her, right? But fifteen years old? Was she some else’s before you got her?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t just abandon my partner! And she was actually the horse of a close friend and traveling buddy!..” his smile died down into a sadder tone. “She.. died some time after I defeated Alduin..”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up anything bad..” Ian knitted his brows, “You don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to, I understand..”

“It’s alright. I’m slowly getting better..” The Dunmeri mage looked down at the reins.

It was a little bit before Ian spoke again, “Who’s Alduin?”

Loki looked over, “Oh! Alduin the World-Eater, first born son of Akatosh, and scariest looking dragon I’ve ever seen in my life!”

“What did he look like?”

“Huge, black Dragon, dark as the night. His eyes were orbs of red. I actually was a foot away from being eaten by that bastard, and I saw the hunger for power in his eyes,” Loki recounted, “I don’t remember being more scared than in that moment, I was scared stiff!”

“How did you defeat him?”

Loki chuckled, “I’m gonna have to tell the whole story for you to understand, from me being almost executed at Helgen, to jumping into a portal to the Nord afterlife. It’s going to take a while..”

“I don’t have anything important to do, besides, you telling the full story instead of bits and pieces during our time traveling together will be a breath of fresh air.”

Loki smiled, “Ok, so here’s the story. Skadi’s heard this one multiple times over. It started with me being carted to Helgen to be executed alongside the Stormcloak rebels...”

———

“...And then I watched as Alduin, the once feared beast of old, burst into a multitude of different pieces as Akatosh ripped his soul back up into the heavens!” Loki regaled to Ian. “Afterwards, I was hailed as the vanquisher of evil, and Tsun summoned me back to Nirn with promise that when my time in life is done, I will be welcomed back with open arms!”

Ian chuckled, “That whole story makes Barley and I’s quests seem like errand runs. Were you exaggerating the part where you fought a hundred Dragons at Skull-Diving?”

“Skuldafn, and _perhaps_ I was getting a little carried away at the end.”

Ian laughed sheepishly, “I wouldn’t blame you. I sometimes make out the quest for the Phoenix Gem to be more dangerous than it already was, and don’t get me started with how my brother tells the story!”

“Then tell me your story, how you first discovered magic, and almost met your father.”

The Elf blushed, “Well, I dunno. Compared to your’s, Barley and I’s quest is much less exciting.”

Loki cocked an eyebrow at him, “Bunny, I’ve listened to old Vignar retell the entire history of the Companions, and let me tell you that when he forgets things, he will go all the way back to the start of the story. I don’t think your tale of trial and error with magic will be half as boring as that.”

Ian chuckled, “Alright then..”

“How about this, we’ll stop at the edge of that river over there, and while the horses have a drink, you can tell me about it, alright?”

He nodded, “Ok.”

Loki steered Skadi off of the road, and dismounted his steed upon getting close to the river’s edge. Ian slid down from Alfsigr’s back, joining Loki where he was sitting by the edge next to his horse. The Dunmer smiled, “So, how did it start?”

“Well..” Ian looked around, getting a feeling that something was watching them. He spotted some crows high up in the trees, staring down at them with beady, black eyes. That must be what’s got Ian so nervous. Yet, he couldn’t help but be put off by the wilderness around them. “...It started off with me waking up on my sixteenth birthday..-”

Skadi suddenly jerked in front of Loki before falling to her side like a rag doll, an arrow planted firmly into her skull. Loki gasped, but didn’t have time to rush to her aid when bandits from behind rocks and bushes leaped out of their hiding spots to ambush the travelers. 

Ian, knowing it would take too long to pull his staff out of it’s holster from his back, unsheathed the steel dagger at his hip. Loki, instead of pulling out his sword immediately, opened his palms, and two ice shards levitated in his palms. A Nord bandit rushed at Ian with his own jagged dagger. His heart beated fast in his chest, but the Elf stood firm. “C’mon, I’ll make it real quick if you drop that butter knife there!” He jeered before slashing forward with the ugly, green dagger.

He narrowly dodged each slash before stabbing forward with the shiny, unused blade. The Nord grabbed him by the wrist, and delivered a sharp knee to the gut. He fell to his knees in pain, dropping the dagger. He expected the blade to come down into his skull, but before the man could do so, Allie charged at the man and sharply threw him to the side with her head. Her nostrils flared as she squealed at the attacker. 

Another bandit came charging at the two, but was delivered a kick to the chest. She fell back into the ground, and before she could recover, the dark brown mare brought her front hooves down upon the woman, crushing her head, bones, and body in an instant. Ian recovered enough to shakin stand. He sheathed the blade before pulling out his staff. The wood hummed with blue energy in it’s fibers as he gripped it firmly. He approached his steed, patting her on the neck, “Good girl, thank you..” he breathed. His stomach was still in pain from the man’s attack. Allie nudged his face affectionately in return.

Loki bared his teeth as he was attacked from the side, an Argonian and a Breton charged at him. He thrusted his hands forward, and two gusts of freezing wind erupted from his palms. The sheer power from the attack froze them almost entirely solid. He whipped out his ebony sword from it’s sheath, and with a few slashes to their torsos, the men broke into pieces. Before a Khajiit could strike him from behind, Loki swung the sword around and through her chest. The blade impaled her, burying itself in the tree behind her as she attempted to remove the sword with her last, dying breath.

“Fall back! They’re not worth it!” The bandit with the green, jagged dagger yelled to his comrades. Upon hearing this, the attackers stopped all assault on the mages and fled. 

Once Loki ripped his sword out of the Khajiit’s corpse, his eyes widened, “ _Skadi!_ ” He dropped his sword and ran to his beloved horse’s side. The arrow was still planted into her head. Blood dribbled down her wound as Loki pulled it out. The horrid smell emanating from the arrowhead was strong, and if he wasn’t so numb at the moment, he would have reared his head back in disgust. He felt somewhere, anywhere, for a pulse, but all he felt was her cold body, still, and lifeless. He then remembered how Skadi’s ears perked before she quickly moved in front of him. His heart sank. Skadi died protecting him from a fatal arrow..

Shakily, Loki sat down cross legged, and gently pulled the mare’s head into his lap. He brushed her black mane out of her eye, where her chocolate brown eyes were shut loosely. Loki stroked her face and ears, tears threatened to pour out his eyes and down his cheeks.

Ian couldn’t believe it himself. He sat down next to Loki. He couldn’t say anything, his throat was in knots. Alfsigr approached Skadi’s body, and softly sniffed her face, even nudging it with her nose, before stepping back slowly.

“L-Loki..?”

His boyfriend didn’t say anything. His face was obscured by his hair, and he refused to look at his other half. Loki pulled out his map, which was messily folded, and handed it to Ian. “Ian, I need you to go find Gunmar without me. I’ve marked Honeystrand Cave on my map...”

“A-Are you sure?” Ian asked. He unfolded the yellowed paper and searched for a mark on the map. “Do you need help burying her?..”

He shook his head, sniffling. “Please, just go.. let me give my partner a proper burial..” his voice cracked. He still refused to look at Ian in his current state.

From Loki’s perspective, he only heard Ian mumble to Allie to follow him, and their steps slowly fading away.

Once he was certain Ian was out of earshot and sight, he broke down in tears. Loki sobbed as he held Skadi’s head close to his chest tightly. For the next ten minutes, all he could do is cry for his fallen friend, who sacrificed her own life so he could keep going.

When the tears finally slowed enough, and he felt an anger he hasn’t felt in a long time. His heart began to swell and hurt as his bones began to change.


	31. The Beast

Ian looked at the map Loki gave him. Honeystrand Cave is supposed to be in this direction, why doesn’t he see a cave, or at least a beehive. “Am I even going in the right direction?..” he wondered aloud. He knows he won’t get a helpful answer, but he showed the map to Alfsigr, “Got any ideas?” He asked her. The mare huffed in response. “Yeah, I thought so, too..”

Ian sighed, and squeezed Allie’s sides to urge her forward. His heart sunk at the thought of Skadi. Why didn’t he listen to his instinct? He knew something was wrong, so why didn’t act on it? Would he have saved her if he did? Would Loki be mad at him if he knew something was wrong? He rubbed at his eyes. That poor horse..

He looked up from the map again, and saw a man hiding behind a rock, occasionally peeking over it before writing something down in a notebook he held in his hand.

Ian stuffed the map into his pocket, slid down from Alfsigr’s back, and approached the man. When the red haired man noticed Ian, he outstretched his hand out to stop him, “You there, hold fast! I've tracked this damned bear for two weeks; I'll not let it have any more victims,” he warned.

Ian took a step back, stuttering, “Y-Yeah, but..” he pulled out the map. He pointed to Fort Dawnguard, “Are you Gunmar? Isran needs your help.”

The man lowered his hand in confusion, “Isran? Needing someone else's help? Never thought I'd hear that,” Gunmar sighed, jogging more notes down, as he spectated what seemed to be a cave far off, “I'm afraid he's a few years too late. I've moved on. I have more important business to attend to. Besides, he can handle anything alone. He assured me so himself. What could he possibly need my help with?”

“The Dawnguard is up against vampires,” he responded.

Gunmar’s eyes widened, “Vampires? That... well, that might change things..” he mumbled. He stuffed the notebook into his pocket, “Tell me more about what's going on.”

Ian looked over to Allie to make sure she’s doing alright. The mare was nibbling on some grass, “Well.. we’re not entirely sure, but my partner and I know that they have an ‘Elder Scroll’,” he told the towering Nord. He would have to actually ask Loki what an Elder Scroll is, but they seem like a big deal.

“By the Eight...” Gunmar breathed. His face paled at the thought of vampires having an Elder Scroll with them, “All right, look. I'll consider it, but I can't just leave this bear to prey on more innocent people. Once it's dealt with, then perhaps I'll see what Isran expects of me.”

“I..” Ian took a deep breath. He might as well do this, since Loki is preoccupied with Skadi, “I want to help! I’m sure that if we both work together, we’ll get the job done faster!”

The Nord hummed, “Aye, you can come along, but be wary, bears are powerful, one swing of their claws can leave you in bad shape.”

Ian nodded. He’s seen Bearbugs with their sharp nails that grow back the next day, no matter how much they clip them. A normal bear shouldn’t be much different, “Then I’ll be sure to not let them get close to me,” he unsheathed his staff.

Gunmar nodded, and motioned for Ian to follow. As they got closer to Honeystrand Cave, a sweet smell wafted in the air. He could only guess that was the honey Loki had previously talked about. “So what’s your name, lad?” Gunmar asked him. “You already know my name, so it’s only fair.”

“Ian,” he simply said. 

He jumped when he accidentally stepped on a twig, invoking a chuckle from the Nord.

“I’m guessing you are very jumpy. How did you get so far out here without turning tail?”

“I actually came here with my partner, but..” he paused for a second, “...Something happened along the way. He needed to do something, and told me to talk to you on my own.”

Gunmar nodded as they approached a couple bears with their skulls cracked open. “I already killed most of the bears in that cave, but I had to retreat when the other came out-”

“H-How many are there?” Ian clutched his staff close to his chest.

“About five others. It’s unusual for a lot of them to be in one place, so I can only guess that these bears were the mother’s cubs.”

Ian exhaled anxiously, “Ok, just one bear..” he mumbled to himself.

As they walked into the dark cave, the blue Elf silently gave himself pep talk, ‘ _You can do this Ian! A bear is super small compared to the Stone Guardian you fought a few months ago. You’ve fought a wolf, bandits, vampires-_ ’

_Crunch_

He looked down and saw that he stepped right onto a skull. He jumped back immediately, gasping as he wiped the bottom of his boot against the stone floor. Gunmar lit a torch, and examined the broken skull. “This is an old victim. A more human race, it looks like.”

Ian shivered, “I thought I knew what stepping on and breaking a bone felt like..”

“Chin up, that bastard could be lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce at any given moment,” the auburn haired Nord responded. “Do you have a blade on you, lad?”

Ian nodded, “My partner gave it to me, but I’m not too good at using it yet,” he told Gunmar as he pulled out his dagger.

“Words of advice, if one of those beasts has you pinned, and you’re holding a dagger. Your best bet is to jam that blade into their eye socket until they get off.”

“I’ll keep that in mind..”

Ian looked around at his surroundings. Bones littered the flooring the more they went further in. Gunmar suddenly stopped, causing the mage to bump into him. He pressed a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. There was shuffling in the darkness along with low growls. “So what does that magic staff of yours do?” He mumbled to Ian.

“A-A lot of things..” he whispered back.

“Then when I say ‘now’, you start hurling spells at that bear..”

“You s-see it?!..” he panicked. Gunmar clasped his hand over Ian’s mouth.

“Don’t let fear drive you to cower away, or the bear will target you first, got it?” When Ian nodded, he uncovered his hand. “When I say ‘now’..” he unsheathed his axe, still bloody from butchering those bears outside.

“W-When’s ‘now’? This is going a little fast, where is the bear even?”

“Now!” He cried, right as a beast with bright orange eyes charged at the two, roaring agitatedly.

Ian exclaimed, and blurted out the first spell that came to his mind, “ _Bastion Fortigar!_ ” He held out his staff. A bright blue barrier formed between the men and the bear. The beast swung it’s claws down at the shield, causing it to crack when Ian flinched. When it brought it’s claws down again, the barrier shattered into shards, which made the bear recoil. This gave Gunmar just enough time to swing his axe at the bear. It slashed across it’s face, but instead of diving straight into it’s head, it only cracked it’s jaw.

The beast roared angrily and threw Gunmar to the side with it’s mighty arm. He was thrown into the wall, and lost grip on his axe. It flew blade first into a nearby corpse too far away from the Nord, burying itself in the body’s head with a sickening crunch. The torch was also dropped in the process, leaving Ian in complete darkness. He felt his heart thumping out of his chest as he heard it start moving again, “Stay calm, Ian! I have a bow and arrow on me, just give me enough light and I’ll put an arrow through that sorry bastard’s skull!” Gunmar told Ian in the pitch black cave.

He nodded, he knew just the spell to cast. “ _Lufiia!_ ” Ian shouted. He aimed his staff forward. In that moment, Ian felt sharp claws rake against his chest, and the bear pinned him down into the cold, hard ground. He coughed up blood, the beast’s weight was crushing his ripped up chest. It snarled at him, and prepared to finish him off with a killing blow. Before it’s claws could finish him off, though, an arrow shot straight into the bear’s head, ending it’s life in an instant.

The large cave bear crumpled lifelessly beside Ian. He could hardly move, hell, it took so much of his energy to keep his eyes open. His chest hurt so bad, and he could taste iron in his mouth. “Ian!” Gunmar exclaimed as he rushed to the mage’s side. His robes around his chest area were ripped asunder, and the magical fabric was staining red by the minute. The Nord gently tapped Ian’s cheek, “C’mon lad, it’s not so bad, you can pull through..” he encouraged, but didn’t get a response other than him coughing up another spout of blood. Gunmar panicked, he didn’t intend on anymore innocents getting hurt! He removed the bloody robes, and examined the damage.

The bear did a number on his chest, where four claw marks were raked against his chest, and blood dribbled from the fresh wounds. He got to work immediately. The auburn haired man took out a large, red bottle from his satchel, leaned Ian up to where he could drink the potion, and tilted the concoction into his mouth. The elf initially rejected the liquid, and coughed up the remedy along with more of his own bodily fluid. After some reassurance from Gunmar, Ian pushed down the need to cough and swallowed the bitter liquid roughly. The pain alleviated enough that he was able to open his eyes, “Loki..” he whimpered.

Gunmar narrowed his eyes. Is Loki his partner that had to pull back? He didn’t question him, and instead used his already dirty robes to soak up as much blood as possible. He scooped Ian up into his arms, and rushed out of Honeystrand Cave. Ivarstead is nearby, and there are people there that will do a much better job at helping Ian than he can..

———

As he approached the mine those sorry bastards hold up in, Loki’s fur ridged up in anticipation. Ever since he buried Skadi, all that has been on his mind was to slaughter the killer like a pig. The fully transformed werewolf licked his chops; it has been so long since he has turned, and it is honestly a relief.

He knows he isn’t thinking completely straight. Dunmer Loki would have some sort of plan, even if it is poorly put together and based entirely on predictions and luck. Werewolf Loki, on the other hand, only thinks about massacre, and making sure every single one of those bandits are dead by the time the moonlight shines upon his fur. The werewolf stopped in his tracks when he heard chatter. Close to the abandoned mine’s entrance, a few bandits were warming up by a campfire. 

He listened in to their conversation. “That horse kicked your ass, Hirorf!” An Argonian jabbed as he sunk his teeth into a pheasant’s leg.

“Oh shut up, you weren’t even doing anything, at least I was trying to gut one of them. Just waiting for Vasurus to put an arrow in the travelers’ heads, and even then, he couldn’t do that,” the bearded man huffed as he polished his orcish dagger. “One of their stupid horses got in the way at the last moment..”

A redguard spoke up from where he was sitting, “A shame, really. If we successfully killed those chinless Elves, we could have sold those horses off somewhere. The black one looked really young and fit.”

“Or eaten them, gotta love horse stew!” Hirorf cackled.

As the bandits laughed, the white furred werewolf slowly and quietly stalked closer in the undergrowth. As Loki’s eyes started hazing over, drool hung from his maw of knife-like teeth. 

He got too careless when the Redguard facing his direction noticed the werewolf, and his bright blue eyes. He jumped back in terror, “W-Werewolf!” He scrambled for the door, but tripped on the log he was sitting on.

Loki immediately pounced forward on his hind legs, he caught the Nord in his claws while the gangly Argonian was able to roll to the side in time. The man tried to scream, but it was cut off when the beast snapped his jaws around his head, and ripped it clean off. The Redguard scrambled for the door to the hideout, but was cut off when the werewolf leaped in front of the door. The wolf snarled, but it was cut off with a yelp when the Argonian bandit leaped onto his back and drove the Nord’s dagger into his shoulder.

This only angered Loki. The werewolf slashed his claws at the Argonian’s jaw, damn near ripping it off as he flew backwards into the campfire. As the doomed lizard screamed and tried rolling out of the fireplace while also holding his near severed jaw in place, which was only hanging onto his head by a few strands of muscle and tissue, the blood soaked beast turned his attention to the remaining bandit.

The Redguard grabbed a torch held up near the mine’s entrance, and waved it in front of the monster. Loki backed up, but kept his gaze on the bandit. It was when the bandit recognized that the werewolf’s fur and eyes are strangely similar to one of the Elves they attacked earlier that day. He gasped, “What do you want?!” He cried as he waved the torch at Loki in an attempt to deter him from attacking. 

The werewolf swiped the torch out of his quivering hands and pounced onto him. He felt his hip and legs break under the beast’s weight painfully, invoking a cry of pain from him. The monster tilted his head close to the Reguard’s. He could smell the blood off of his breath as red drops of saliva dripped down onto his face. “..Vengeance,” the wolf growled before sinking his fangs into the bandit’s throat. He yanked back, taking a bloody chunk of his throat with him. The bandit’s mouth gurgled with his own blood. Try as he might, he cannot cry out for help, or make noise other than gasps and gurgles for air as he drowns in his own bodily fluids.

Loki got off of the Redguard, spitting out what he took from him. The werewolf licked his bloody lips. He stood up on his hind legs to look around at the carnage he ensued; he can start to smell burning flesh from the Argonian in the fire. With a snort, he walked over to the mine’s door. He might be in wolf form, but he can still open doors. Initially, his bloody, clawed hands slipped off of the door handle, but got a firm grip after a couple failed attempts. The beast entered the mine, but left the door open in his carelessness.

———

Deep within the mine, the bandit chief, Vasurus Gravium crushed wolfsbane root into the mortar and pestle. He gently hummed a tune as he worked on a poison he only knows the recipe for. Vasurus gently poured the crushed root into the retort. Reaching over, he picked a small piece off of a seemingly normal plant. All of the fools he keeps in line think that the plant is a simple passion of his, that he diligently makes sure receives just the right amount of water and sunlight, and only the finest soil sold to him from Stros M’Kai. They don’t realize that the plant’s branches and roots are the ingredient that gives his poisons a painful and fatal _kick_.

He powdered the root just as he did with the wolfsbane, and previously, deathbell petals. As he waited for the fourth poison that night to brew, he leaned back in his chair to pop his back. Vasurus yawned as he stretched nearly all of his joints. He gave the plant he gets his jarrin root from a small pat on one of it’s branches, “Another successful day, eh?” He asked it. There was no answer. He chuckled to himself as he leaned his head back to look at the filthy dirt ceiling, only held up by supports.

Vasurus thought back on the failed ambush earlier that day. If the horse didn’t move in front of that Elf in time, that raid would have gone swimmingly. He would have had a shiny ebony sword, magic robes, and two pretty mares to sell off for enough coin to last them until Mid Year. That other Elf was cute, even from the distance he posted up in. He probably would have kept him alive for himself..

His thoughts were interrupted by an animal growling a few halls down. He stood up from his chair. Something is off. It is far too quiet. He grabbed his bow and an arrow, dipped in poison. He slowly stalked down the mine. His step was careful, and his bow was aimed at the first thing that moves. He walked down into the main ‘hall’, if he can even call it that. Vasurus immediately recoiled at the carnage laid out before him. Nearly all of his men were dismembered, mangled, and strewn about the place. He saw that his second, a Breton, was still alive, he rushed over to his side. “What happened here, Strous?” He asked him.

Strous coughed up blood, “Vasurus, get out of here-” he was stopped by another cough, “-W-Werewolf!” He urgently said. His eyes then rolled to the side, as he became limp in his chief’s presence.

Low growling caused the Imperial to stiffen. He turned his head to look back. In the doorway, stood a tall, seven foot-or-so werewolf with blood splattered fur. While it had one hand leaning against the doorframe, it’s other hand was held behind it’s back. Vasurus somehow had a feeling this beast had something to do with their failed ambush that day. He immediately grabbed his bow, and took aim at the beast, but it was faster than him. The wolf swiped his weapon out of his hand, and pinned him to the floor with a snarl.

The beast spoke, “You’re the one who killed my horse..” it growled. Blue eyes burned into his green ones. “You poisoned her with your filthy wolfsbane, so you will die by your own poison,” it growled in it’s guttural voice. What it held behind it’s back was Vasurus’ own poison in it’s glass bottle. With it’s bloody claws, it pried the Imperial bandit’s maw open before shoving the entire bottle into his mouth. The beast then forced his jaw shut, causing the bottle to bust open, imbed his mouth and throat with sharp glass, and send the poison through his system. The werewolf dropped his head into the bloody dirt floor.

Vasurus immediately felt the poison burning his veins, he retched up blood, glass, and some of his toxin. “D-Damn you!..” he cried weakly before collapsing into his own puddle of blood and glass shards.

Surrounded by the bodies of his enemies, Loki looked over the massacre he created. His long, furry ears twitched; he felt numb. He didn’t expect to be so apathetic and numb to everything after Skadi was killed. Loki looked down at the bandit chief with his blue eyes. Perhaps it is because he’s in the form of a beast, and his every other thought is feeding on flesh that he doesn’t feel much accomplished for avenging Skadi. He simply walked over the bodies as he made his way for the door. Loki felt his heart began to slow down and shrink as he reverted to his elven form. Hopefully, Ian found Gunmar, and he is waiting for him somewhere..

———

Loki walked into Honeystrand Cave. Parts of his neck and body were speckled red with blood, even after he reclothed himself and used a nearby river to wash his face, neck and hands of his enemies’ blood. His nails were also lined with dirt, as he only had them and his wolf form to dig a grave for Skadi. Seeing that Alfsigr was posted outside the cave, unharmed, Loki could only guess that Ian found Gunmar, and decided to enter the cave. He didn’t like the idea of going into a bear infested cave, but the dead bears outside reassured him that things are alright, and he’s just being paranoid.

As he entered the cave, Loki was immediately put off by the amount of blood splattered about. There was another dead bear, but he knew for a fact that something was wrong when he saw Ian’s staff left behind. Why would he just leave it here?

Loki rushed to pick it up. Bloody handprints wrapped around the sanded down parts. The Dunmer panicked. Is Ian alright? Who does all this blood belong too? While scouring the cave’s dark corners for anybody, he noticed a small trail of blood droplets leading outside. Holding his other’s staff, he followed the trail outside, and noticed that it led onto the main road and toward Ivarstead. Loki’s worry brought him to Allie.

He secured the staff onto his back. “C’mon Allie, we gotta find Ian..” he mumbled to the mare, and hopped onto her back. He ushered her into the direction of Ivarstead in a gallop. ‘ _Please, be alright Ian.._ ’ he thought to himself nervously.


	32. Odahviing

Loki rode into Ivarstead on Alfsigr in a rush; her hooves clopped against the stone path as he directed her to a small place to graze. Loki hopped down from her back, and started asking around. “Hey, have you seen a blue skinned Elf come into town?”

“No, sorry..”

He rushed to another farmer, who was about to close the door on her way inside her house, “Ma’am, have you or anyone else seen an Elf come into town? Blue hair and skin?”

She shook her head, “The only Elf I’ve seen today is you. My family and I have been tending to our crops. Try asking a guard, they are more likely to see your Elf.”

Loki nodded, “Thank you,” he then ran to the first guard he saw, posted outside of Vilemyr Inn. “Sir, have you seen an elf come into town? He has blue skin, blue hair, and long, pointy ears.”

The guard hummed, “I did see the boy you’re describing, but he was carried here in a rush by some big Nord, looked pretty beaten up. He’s healing up in the Inn right now-”

“Ok, thank you!” Loki cut him off as he bounded up the wooden porch steps and barged into the Inn. He looked around. Not seeing Ian anywhere in the main hall, he started poking his head into any open rooms, and scoured the place for his other half.

It was when he was about to open the door to one room when a large, bulky, red haired Nord stepped in front of him, “Sorry, someone’s using that room.”

“What’s wrong? Unless two people are fucking in there, I want in!” Loki barked. “I’m looking for my partner, and I was told he was carried here!”

The Nord’s eyes widened, “Oh, you’re Loki!” he realized. “Forgive me, I just didn’t want anyone disturbing Ian while he’s sleeping. Go on ahead,” he opened the door.

Upon the door opening, Loki saw his lover laying in the bed. The Dunmer rushed over, “Ian!” He spared a glance at his chest, which was obviously the work of a bear. Four claw marks were spread across his chest, stitched up and painfully swollen.

Ian’s eyes cracked open weakly, “L-Loki..” he rasped, and attempted to sit up when his arms supporting him gave out.

“You need to rest, lad, Loki isn’t going anywhere,” Gunmar looked over at the Dunmer, “Right?”

He nodded, “I’m not leaving your side, Bunny..” he laid his hand on Ian’s chest, and a golden hue wrapped around the wounds. The injury had woven itself back together; when Loki pulled his palm back, four bright pink scars laid against his chest. “You do still need to eat something and get some rest if you want to be moving around tomorrow.”

“I’ll be back with some venison stew. Do you need anything, Loki?” Gunmar asked. He shook his head, and the Nord left the two in the room together.

Loki sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through Ian’s curly locks, “Ian, I’m..” he felt tears well up in his eyes, “..If I had known this would have happened, I wouldn’t have been so careless and went after them.”

“Went after who?” Ian tilted his head, while feeling his new scars with his thumb.

“Those bandits..” Loki confessed. “I was just so consumed with grief and the want for avenging Skadi that I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t think of you or focusing on our quest, and I’m just.. left with nothing but regret..”

Gunmar walked back in the room with a hot bowl of venison and vegetables. “I’ll leave you two alone for the night,” he told the two Elves as he left the stew on the nightstand. He walked out, closing the door behind him.

Loki sighed, “Lean forward a little bit, Bunny, so I can prop your pillow up.”

Ian cocked an eyebrow, but did so and laid back on it comfortably, “What for?”

“I’m going to feed you, why else?” He held the bowl and gently stirred the contents within.

“O-Oh that’s ok, I can feed myself,” the blue Elf protested.

Loki sat closer to Ian, spooning out a chunk of meat and chopped up carrot, “Oh I know you can feed yourself, but I refuse to do nothing in your current state. Open.”

“It’s really not a big deal, Loki-”

“You’re not going to win this, Ian, so you might as well give in while the stew is still hot,” Loki cut him off, cracking a side grin.

Ian sighed. Stubborn bastard. He reluctantly opened his mouth, and took the spoonful of stew. “This is so stupid..” he grumbled as he chewed on the venison chunk.

Loki smiled, “You’re letting me do it, though.”

“That’s because you’re stubborn and won’t let me feed myself.”

He grinned. The mage spooned another piece of meat, “Just let me spoonfeed you for a little while, and I’ll let you finish it on your own.”

Ian nodded, and ate the spoonful nudged at his mouth. “You seem to like doing this. Why’s that?”

Loki looked down at the bowl sadly as he stirred the vegetables and venison, “On days when my mom couldn’t move much, I would be the one to feed her. She used to feed me when I was bedridden, so it felt fulfilling for me to take care of her back..” It was quiet between the two for a while. A guilty look in Ian’s eyes caught Loki’s attention, “What’s wrong? Are you not hungry?”

Ian shook his head, “N-No..”

Worried, he placed the half eaten bowl of stew aside, “Then what’s got you all somber?”

Ian waved a hand dismissively, “It’s ok. I’m just tired..”

Loki knitted his eyebrows, “It’s about Skadi, isn’t it?..” when Ian flinched at the mention of the horse’s name, he continued, “There’s nothing that can be done, Bunny. It wasn’t like you predicted that there would be an ambush.”

“But I did!” He hissed. Tears stung the corners of his eyes, “B.. Back there, at the river, I had a feeling that we were being watched, but I ignored it. If I had just listened to my own feelings, Skadi wouldn’t be dead!”

Loki widened his eyes, “Ian..”

Ian wiped at tears slipping down his cheeks with the back of his hand, “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault your horse is gone!-”

Loki locked his arms around Ian and held him close to the Dunmer’s chest, “Don’t ever say that! It was never your fault,” he rubbed circles into his back softly. “Not a single inch of me blames you for what happened..”

More tears poured down Ian’s face as he melted into his boyfriend’s embrace. He held onto him tightly, “I was so scared..” he sniffled against Loki’s shoulder, “..You were going to leave me..”

Loki hushed him, “I would never leave you. You mean too much to me now...”

———

“Are you sure you’re moving alright?”

Ian chuckled as he followed Loki further from Ivarstead. His robes were cleaned and patched up, and he’s moving around as if he wasn’t attacked. “I’m fine, but why are we leaving Ivarstead without Allie?”

“Just you wait, Bunny. I have a friend who owes me a few months back, and considering where we’re going to look for Sorine Jurard, it would be much easier to just have him take us there in less than a day,” Loki explained. He looked around in the wooded clearing, “This should be far away enough.”

“But why are we leaving town? Is he a wizard?” He asked.

“Better,” he responded, smiling. He walked to the center of the clearing, cuffed his hands over his mouth, and shouted, “ ** _Odahviing!_** ”

Ian knitted his brows. Nothing happened, why did he shout?

A roar from above and a large shadow caused Ian to gasp. He dashed behind a nearby tree as a large, red Dragon swooped onto the ground. “Loki! Get out of there-” he stopped when he saw the Dunmer was _talking_ to the Dragon.

Loki walked over to the tree where Ian was hiding, and pulled him out from behind from his wrist, “Don’t worry, his name is Odahviing. He’s the friend I was talking about.”

“You’re _friend_?”

The large, scaly beast spoke, “Dovahkiin, why have you called me here? Feykro los drem. I do not smell nor see any danger.”

“I want to introduce you to my partner, Ian,” Loki motioned his hand to the Elf digging his heels in the grass and dirt.

Ian nervously waved his hand curtly, “H-Hi..”

Odahviing narrowed his reptilian eyes, “Dii rah, Loki!” He exclaimed, startling Ian into hiding behind his boyfriend, “You called me down from the strunmah to introduce a friend?!”

“That’s not the only reason!” Loki waved his arm to recapture the Dragon’s attention, “I was hoping you would be interested in flying us to the Reach and back-”

“Absolutely not,” Odahviing grunted.

“Oh, come on! It’s not like you have a busy schedule up there. You just fly around and hang out with Paarthurnax all day!” Loki argued. “Besides, you owe me from when that rogue Dragon attacked you for betraying Alduin, what’s-his-face.”

“I could have defeated Vulvulonah myself,” The bright red Dragon huffed, a small puff of smoke escaping his nostrils.

Loki scoffed, “That’s not what that fight told me. Vulvulonah was kicking your ass, and I came and saved it before gods know what would have happened.”

Odahviing rolled his eyes, “Geh, geh..” he lowered his neck, “..Get on, where are we headed?”

Loki chuckled, “Thanks Odahviing, I planned the stop at Dragontooth Crater,” he pulled Ian along, “C’mon, you’ll love flying!”

“I-I’m not sure about this. I’ve never ridden a dragon!” Ian responded shakily.

Loki hoisted himself up on Odahviing’s neck, “It’s just like riding a horse, just bigger and has wings.” Odahviing snorted, another plume of smoke emerging from his nostrils. “C’mon, you’ll love it!”

Ian took in a deep breath, and tried doing what Loki did. He shakily climbed up behind Loki. When Odahviing flapped his wings and lifted off the ground, the sudden feeling invoked fear in Ian. He wrapped his arms around Loki fearfully and buried his head in his boyfriend’s hair.

Loki chuckled, “It’s alright, Bunny. See, I’m not holding onto anything but his scales,” he reassured.

After a little more reassurance, the blue Elf reluctantly opened his eyes to look around. They were high up in the sky, where the farms, towns, and travelers below looked like mere ants. Ian’s fear stricken face molded into one of amazement as his fluffy locks were ruffled by the wind. He laughed, “This..” he looked over at Loki, who was watching the passing scenery alongside him, “This is amazing!” He beamed.

“I told you!” He laughed along with him as Odahviing flew closer to some clouds.

Ian got the courage to unlatch one of his hands from Loki’s sides and reached it up into the clouds. As his hand phased through the white, foggy cloud, he felt the chill race from his hand through his arm, and into his body, causing him to shiver from the feeling. When he pulled his hand back, tiny droplets of water clung to his skin against the racing winds around him.

The two Elves laughed and enjoyed the feeling of racing through the sky on Odahviing, as if they were Dragons themselves.


	33. Dragontooth Crater

Ian chuckled sheepishly as Loki helped him down from Odahviing’s neck. “That was so much fun!” He laughed, still giddy after being up in the air for so long.

Loki smiled before turning his head to the Dragon, “We’ll be back here at sunset, but you could come back in the morning if you’re tired enough from flying today.”

Odahviing nodded, “Fare thee well, Dovahkiin and joor!” He flapped his wings and lifted off, “I will return when the rising krein graces my eyes!” He roared as he flew over the mountains and disappeared from their vision.

Loki rolled out his map, “Alright, so Sorine’s last known location is but a stone’s throw from here..” he looked into his map.

Ian looked around, noticing that they are in a ruin of some sort. Towers were collapsed around them, and some skeletons laid strewn about. His giddy feeling sunk, leaving him nervous, “Hey, Loki..” he tugged on his boyfriend’s sleeve, “What is this place exactly?..”

He looked up, “Oh! This place used to be an Imperial outpost, then it became a camp for the Forsworn and their nasty hagravens,” he continued, “ _Then_ it became a Dragon’s lair until about a year ago. Now, it’s just ruins.”

“What’s a hagraven?” Ian asked.

“Witches that traded their humanity for magical adeptness,” Loki explained. “They look like an ugly cross between an old, decrepit woman and a bird,” he told Ian.

Ian’s brows knitted. “They sound like hideous Harpies.”

Loki guffawed, “Ha! They may sound similar, but harpies aren’t as hideous as hagravens, and they usually nest in the hotter regions of Tamriel,” he stuffed his map away and began walking in the direction Sorine Jurard is, “Besides, harpies can fly, unlike hagravens.”

Ian hummed, “Is Tamriel’s harpies similar to Yore’s? Yore’s Harpies live in a country south of the United Realms, and seeing one in New Mushroomton is rare.”

As they walked north, the sun began to fall from it’s highest position in the sky, “I mean.. they aren’t animals, but they aren’t civilized in the sense they live in cities,” he explained.

The blue Elf nodded, he noticed they stopped at the bank of a river, “We stopped,” he mumbled to himself as Loki pulled out the map and glanced at it. “The map says that Sorine’s little hold up is past this river,” he shoved it away into his pocket before stepping into the river.

“Do we _have_ to wade through it?” He asked nervously, “Aren’t there any bridges or something?”

“Scared to get nibbled on by slaughterfish?” Loki chuckled. He waded out and shook some cold water that clung to his pant leg at Ian.

“N-No, stop it!” Ian exclaimed.

He snickered, “Then what’s the problem?”

Ian huffed, “I just don’t want to get wet is all.”

An idea popped into Loki’s mind, he held his arms out, “Let me carry you, then!”

The mage’s face reddened, “I don’t need to be carried! Besides, it wouldn’t be fair for you..”

“I don’t mind!” Loki smiled widely, “And even before we became lovers, I carried you sometimes!” He ushered Ian to let him pick him up.

Ian sighed, “Fine, but how-” he was cut off by Loki picking him up bridal style, invoking a squeak of surprise from him. He held on tight and held his feet up when Loki started to walk back into the freezing river.

Loki chuckled at Ian’s nervousness, “I promise, I won’t drop you,” he said as he crossed through the river. Upon walking to the other side, he let Ian’s dry boots touch the wet grass. When Ian looked hesitant about something, Loki tilted his head in confusion, “What’s wrong?-!”

Ian turned his head to land a brisk peck on Loki’s cheek. He was frozen in shock. The blue Elf wiggled out of Loki’s grip and looked away sheepishly, “I-I see something over there! C’mon!” He bashfully said to Loki as he began walking in the direction of an orange and metal structure.

Loki felt the spot on his cheek where he was kissed, letting a goofy grin creep onto his face. He followed after Ian, still grinning. By the time he reached Ian, he was speaking to a Breton woman.

“Isran wanted my boyfriend and I to look for you,” he explained to the woman. A blush was still plastered on his face when the Dunmer stood next to him.

“Isran? Wants me?” She asked. Sorine Jurard shook her head and resumed what she was doing, tinkering with some Dwarven mechanism, “No, you must be mistaken. He made it exceedingly clear the last time we spoke that he had no interest in my help. I find it hard to believe he's changed his mind. He said some very hurtful things to me before I left.. Anyway, I'm quite happy in my current pursuits. So if you'll excuse me...”

“V-Vampires threaten nearly all of Skyrim, so we need your help,” Ian stammered.

Sorine looked up, “Vampires? Really? Oh, and I suppose now he remembers that I proposed no less than three different scenarios that involved vampires overrunning the population. Well, what are they up to?” She asked.

“Well..” Ian rubbed the back of his neck, “They have this thing called an Elder Scroll.”

The Breton froze as her eyes widened. “I... Well, that's actually something I never would've anticipated. Interesting. I'm not sure what they would do with one, but in this case Isran is probably correct in thinking it isn't good..” she put down the mechanism. “All right. If nothing else, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to learn more about what's going on so I can better defend myself. But I'm not just going to abandon what I've been working on here. It's too useful. I need at least one intact dwarven gyro, so either I need to find the satchel those mudcrabs stole, or I need a another gyro from someplace. You wouldn't happen to have one, would you?” She asked the two Elves.

Ian hummed, “I did see something bright brown while at the river. I’ll be right back,” he told Sorine and Loki. When his eyes met Loki’s he blushed as he briskly disappeared behind a large rock to find the satchel.

Loki sat on a nearby rock, Sorine looked over at him, “So, do you know why they have an _Elder Scroll_ of all things?”

He shook his head, “I honestly have no idea, but we found one of them locked away with one for centuries,” he rested his chin on his hand, “All we really know is that they have had it for a long time, and are a really well organized and powerful coven..”

Ian reamerged from behind the rocks holding a satchel away from him, “Found it!” He called to them, “But a crab won’t let go of it..”

Just like Ian said, a rather small mudcrab was holding onto the corner of the satchel with one pincer, and snapping the other at Ian whenever he tried getting it off. Loki laughed, “It’s just a baby, it’s not going to rip off your finger,” he said to him as he approached. He slapped the mudcrab off of the satchel’s leather. The small creature snapped it’s pincers at the dark elf before promptly scuttling away, into the icy river.

Ian brought the satchel to Sorine, who sifted through it for a Dwarven gyro, “Thank you! It's not much, but this will help a great deal with some things I've been researching. Now where is it Isran expects me to go?”

“We’re holding up at Fort Dawnguard. It’s in an opening past Riften,” Loki said.

“Ah. Been working more on his secret hideout, has he? It'll be interesting to see how much progress he's made. I'll finished up here and hire a carriage for Riften as soon as I can. See you there!”

Loki waved as he began to leave, “Be seeing you!” Ian followed after Loki. He spared a small smile at Sorine Jurard as they returned to the river. Loki smiled at Ian, “Want me to carry you again?”

Bashfully, he nods, and just like last time, he is carried bridal style across the river, “Doesn’t your back hurt?” Ian asked Loki.

The Dunmer hummed, “You’re actually pretty light. It’s as if I’m carrying a few brooms.” Half way across, Loki looks at him, “So what was with that kiss back there?” He grinned.

Ian’s face lit up in a bright shade of red, “I...” he thought of something to say. To be honest, he didn’t know exactly why he gave him a kiss on the cheek. He just felt comfortable enough with the mage to kiss him. It’s not on-the-lips kind of kiss, but nonetheless he felt enough of a drive to do that as if he _were_ going to kiss him on the lips. “...I just felt like doing it..” he mumbled.

Upon crossing to the other side, Loki let Ian down, “Well, could I get another one of those cheek kisses?” He asked.

Ian felt his heart beating out of his chest. Subconsciously, he leaned forward and left a small peck on his boyfriend’s cheek. A pink blush scattered onto Loki’s features as he smiled brightly. Ian chuckled, “How long has it been since you’ve received a cheek kiss? Ever?”

Giddy from the dopamine filled kiss, Loki giggled, “Years! I forgot what a kiss felt like, I wasn’t sure what you did the first time!” He held out his hand for Ian to take as they began walking again.

“I can tell,” Ian chuckled. The younger, but much more powerful, mage was smiling as if he were the happiest man in existence, and his posture was shot straight up as he walked. He looked down at his hand being held, and smiled warmly.

By the time they had returned to Dragontooth Crater, the sun has fallen out of sight, and the stars are beginning to litter the sky. Ian looked around at the ruins, confused on where they are going to sleep for the night, “Hey, Loki-” Ian stopped when he saw the Dunmer enter a collapsed tower. He followed after him, spotting him getting comfortable next to a large chunk of rubble.

Loki smiled, “What’s wrong?”

Ian just shook his head, “Nothing. Make room for me,” he softly said as he scooted up next to him and laid his head on Loki’s chest. His heartbeat was soothing and soft. He suddenly remembered the Elder Scrolls. Ian looked up at Loki, “Hey..” he hummed.

Loki looked down, “Hmm?..”

“What’s an Elder Scroll? Everyone seems so obsessed with them..”

The Dunmer hummed. “Ok, imagine the most powerful thing you’ve ever heard of, then multiply it by, like, a bajillion.”

Ian chuckled softly, “Ok?..”

“That’s an Elder Scroll. They are ancient artifacts with stupidly insane power. I tried reading one once, and I couldn’t see for at least an hour,” he humorously explained, “I was stumbling around inside a Dwemer ruin and falling down stairs like an idiot until my vision returned!..”

“And the Dwemer? Are they Elves like Dunmer?”

“Yeah, they disappeared a long time ago..” he yawned.

“Disappeared?” Ian queried, instantly intrigued.

“I don’t know the full story myself, but the Dwemer were a really technologically advanced race of Mer, and were the ones that tricked the Snow Elves into slavery, but one day, they just disappeared off the face of Mundus.”

“What do you think happened?”

“Over the years I’ve wandered their abandoned ruins, I’ve come up with the idea that either the Falmer turned on their masters, or they angered the gods somehow. Either way, they’re gone, and probably aren’t ever coming back..”

Ian hummed, “Maybe we can explore one of their ruins sometime. I’d like to see what’s inside,” he said as he cuddled up against his boyfriend for warmth. He felt the cold air of the night nip at his exposed neck and face.

The mage smiled, “Yeah, definitely..”

It was quiet between the two for a while. Loki looked up at the broken in roof of the tower, exposing the millions of stars above. They twinkled and shined in all sorts of sizes. He licked his dry lips, “Do you remember the first night we spent under the moons? I had just taught you how to use your first Tamrielan spell; we slept on the grass, and watched the stars and aurora?..”

No response. Ian softly breathed as he slept on Loki’s shoulder. The dark elf smiled. He leaned his head back on the rubble and watched the stars beautifully shine above in the dark sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1/31/2021)I edited the first few chapters, specifically chapter 1. Check it out when you have the time :>


	34. The Search

Colt rubbed his tired eyes. “So the Brushthorns have no idea where Ian went either, even though their daughter spoke to him last before he disappeared?” He asked officer Specter. He pushed himself out of the passenger’s seat once the patrol car came to a complete stop in front of the Lightfoots’ home. He’s grown to calling it his home as opposed to his own abode on the other side of the city.

“I’m afraid not..” the cyclops sighed as she flipped through notes she held on the matter. Her singular eye scanned each and every word she jotted down.

Officer Gore spoke up from the driver’s seat, “We’re not going to give up so easily. There has to be _someone_ in New Mushroomton that saw something suspicious,” she stated, “If not, then video cameras around the highways and roads must have seen something.”

Colt sighed, “I sure hope so..” he began his walk to the house, “Well, have a good night, something may come up tomorrow.”

“Good night, Bronco,” Gore waved before slowly driving off. The blue and white cop car vanished when it took a turn towards the end of the street.

He took a deep breath of the night’s cold air, before exhaling softly. Colt’s hooves clopped against the driveway’s cement as he walked up the steps and to the door. He pulled out his keys, looking for the right one in the dim porch light. He finally found the right key after a couple minutes of fumbling with the door. He finally made it inside of the quiet house, where Blazey looked up from her bed and wagged her tail happily upon seeing him.

He did his best to quietly walk over to the dragon, but stealth fell way out of the equation when he accidentally knocked over a book from the kitchen table, “Shoot...” he mumbled. He thought he was getting good at maneuvering the house clearly meant for elves. He gave Blazey a pat on the head as he knelt down to pick up the book. She licked his hand before returning to her bed.

Colt put the book back in it’s place. It’s one of those romance novels that Laurel used to love reading so much, but as of a month ago, when Ian disappeared, she has completely stopped doing things she loved previously. His heart sunk.

He clopped up the stairs, holding his hand on the rail as he looked at each and every family photo framed on the walls. There was his and Laurel’s wedding picture. A pool photo held on the wall next to it of Barley throwing Ian into the pool when they were much younger. One that specifically hung onto the centaur was a family portrait, with Blazey included. 

He shook his head softly, walking to the bedroom he and Laurel shared. He slowly creaked open the door. “Honey?..” he delicately called to his wife. 

The figure laying in their bed moved. The woman elf turned over to face Colt, “Hey..” she hummed. He walked in and flicked on the lamp on the nightstand. 

Colt knelt down to place a gentle kiss on her head, “How was your day?..”

She didn’t say anything at first. Rather, she shrugged. “I miss him more every day,” Laurel sniffled. She looked at the picture on her nightstand. Illuminated by the lamp, was her oldest and youngest sitting together on a bench. She remembered that being Ian’s first day of middle school. She let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through her hair. 

The centaur’s eyebrows drooped, but he quickly regained himself, “I know it’s hard, but I promise you that something will eventually come up. He couldn’t have vanished in thin air, and would have left the house at some point.”

Laurel nodded. She rubbed her teary eyes, “Will you come to bed soon?”

“I’m going to go check on Barley, and see how he’s doing.”

“Ok,” she responded hollowly. The elven woman turned over again, her back to him and curled up into a ball of grief and blankets. Colt walked out of their room, and returned downstairs where Barley’s room was.

As he approached the door, he noticed the light from under the door leading to the elder brother’s room. He gently knocked his first two knuckles on the oak wood. “H-hey. Can I come in?” He asked from his side of the door.

There was a short moment of silence.

“Sure..” was heard on the other side. That was all Colt needed before he entered the room. Inside, were the usual things an older teenager like Barley had. A couple band posters, a lot of junk laying around, some wadded up notebook pages, and plenty of fake replicas of old day weapons and armor. Sat on his messy bed was the elf in question, with several notebooks sitting around him.

Colt approached passively. He sat his horse half on the bed, while also being careful not to break it. The bed’s springs and wood struggled against his weight. “Working on your next campaign..?” He quizzically asked. Quest of Yore campaigns were one of the only things that he put a lot of thought into. He mapped out every decision he would make, every monster his character would encounter, and every twist and turn thrown his way.

Suprisingly, he shook his head. Wordlessly, he pushed an abundance of note covered papers out of the way to reveal the book found on Ian’s desk the day he went missing.

Colt furrowed his brows, “What are you doing with that?”

Barley cleared his voice. “I..” he stopped. “No, you would think I’m crazy or superstitious.”

One of his ears twitched, “Does it have to do with Ian?” Colt asked.

The large elf flinched at the sound of his brother’s name, “Y.. yeah.”

“Then tell me. Please. I want to know what you’re thinking. Maybe I can help somehow?”

He sat, unsure. Barley then sighed, “I think- no, I _know_ this book has something to do with Ian’s disappearance. I’ve told the Manticore about it, and even showed some pictures while the police still had it in their custody. She also thinks there is something sinister behind it,” he rambled, “It’s just.. so wrong in a way. Even the cover feels like it’s alive.”

Colt stayed quiet. After what seemed like half an hour of just bathing in each other’s presence, a couple tears broke away from Barley’s eyes, he sniffled, rubbing them away. “I just want to know if he’s ok. If I at least knew if Ian was alive or not..” his fingernails dug into the hardcover, “I would burn this abomination to a crisp!..” he growled.

His stepfather patted him on the shoulder, comforting him, “Destroying the only piece of evidence to Ian’s whereabouts won’t solve anything,” he looked at the tome, “Can I have a look? Maybe there’s something that hints to where it was made, and if I can find anything.”

“You can try, but nearly all the text is some language that looks almost alien. I’ve studied old languages in my senior year, and none of them look even similar,” he turned the book over to the centaur.

Colt flipped through the index and the first few pages. “And this is a spell book?” He questioned as he thumbed through illustrations of mages turning people inside out, being burnt to a crisp, and being turned into pastries. These were all so bizarre to him.

“Yeah. I’ve gone through the book so many times I couldn’t even count. This one summons a creature of some kind,” he pointed to a page with a firey humanoid as the picture, “And this one creates a wall of ice that causes your opponents to slip,” he flipped to one where a mage is casting a sheet of ice on the floor. “This one, however..” Barley flipped to a page Colt was rather familiar with, the page that was turned to when Ian vanished. “..This one creates what I think is a portal to somewhere. I think Ian attempted to do this one, and the owner of those tendrils took him. They look nothing like I’ve ever seen before.”

Suddenly, Barley gasped. Colt looked up from the book at his stepson, “What is it?”

Barley hopped off the bed, ran to his desk, and pulled out his Quests of Yore lore book. He fumbled through it until he found something, “Ah-ha! I found something!” He exclaimed, and rushed back to Colt. “About six and a half centuries ago, a lesser known wizard named Belris the Nimble found a raven with milky white eyes that spoke perfect Elvish. The raven warned him of three books made by a powerful being no mortal would fully understand.” Barley pointed to the book in Colt’s hands, “That raven could have been warning about this book!”

“Now hold on a minute,” he closed to book and set it down on the bed, “That raven would be long dead now, and it could have just been repeating what it heard from someone else. You know how some birds repeat phrases. Does it say where this Belris found it?”

“I have a feeling I’m onto something here,” he told the middle aged centaur. Barley put on his vest and hat, “It doesn’t say, but at least I have a clue here. There is a raven that knows about these books, so I’ll be back in a bit!”

“Where’re you going??” Colt asked as he stood up from the bed. It creaked under his weight in relief.

“I’m going to the nearest library! It should have _something_ about these birds.”

“Is the library open around this time? It’s rather dark out.”

“I’ll just have to see for myself!” Barley said as he rushed out of his room in a hurry, leaving his stepfather in his room, alone, with the book.


	35. Prophet

Agmaer squinted at his target as he steadied his aim. He pictured the hay bale as the next vampire to walk into Fort Dawnguard. He took a deep breath-

“Hey Agmaer!” Loki clapped him on the shoulder from behind.

“Agh!” The Nord exclaimed in startlement as he lost focus. His grip on his crossbow slipped, but he was able to catch it before it fell. He smiled sheepishly at the two elves, Loki and Ian, “Hey you guys. I saw two strangers just come in a few minutes ago, so I assume you got Isran’s acquaintances.”

“You knew about them?” Ian questioned.

“Well, yeah. Isran let us all know you two went scouting for them so we wouldn’t shoot them on the notion they’re vampires.”

“Oh, that makes sense..” the blue elf murmured to himself.

Loki motioned for Ian to follow him. Agmaer waved to them as they walked up to Fort Dawnguard’s entrance. Before he went back to practicing his aim, he noticed how Loki held the shorter’s hand as they went in. “Huh,” he hummed, “That’s odd..” he simply shrugged and went back to his practice.

Upon entering the fort itself, Loki and Ian saw the conversation between Sorine Jurard, Gunmar, and Isran ensue.

“All right Isran, you've got us all here. Now what do you want?” Gunmar questioned as he walked out into the middle of the main chamber.

Isran, from up on the second floor, called, “Hold it right there!” He pulled a lever, causing the ceiling up above to open up. The sun filtered in, bathing the four vampire hunters in sunlight.

“What are you doing?” Sorine asked in utter confusion as she shielded her eyes from the blinding light.

The ceiling closed back up, drowning the main hall in the previous dim light. “Making sure you're not vampires. You can never be too careful,” Isran cleared his throat, “So, welcome to Fort Dawnguard. I'm sure you've heard a bit of what we're up against. Powerful vampires, unlike anything we've seen before. And they have an Elder Scroll. If anyone is going to stand in their way...” he pointed his thumb at himself, “..It's going to be us.”

“That’s all well and good, but do we actually know anything about what they're doing? What do we do now?” She asked.

“We'll get to that. For now, get acquainted with the space. Sorine, you'll find room to start your tinkering on that crossbow design you've been working on.”

Sorine nodded, and began to walk in the direction of where she will set up her studies.

Isran pointed to the other recruit, “Gunmar, there's an area large enough for you to pen up some trolls, get them armored up and ready for use.”

“Got it,” he responded, and left in search of said pen.

The grizzled Redguard turned his attention to Ian and Loki. “In the meantime, we're going to get to the bottom of why a vampire showed up here looking for you two. Let's go have a little chat with it, shall we?” He growled, and disappeared into the shadows behind the guardrails.

Loki looked over at his lover, “A vampire?”

“Do you think it is who I think it is?”

The Dunmer nodded. They walked up the nearby staircase and into the torture room. Upon walking in, Ian was immediately horrified by the bloody tools on the table, bloody skulls on the shelves, bloody everything. He looked over at Loki, who had winced at the scene.

In the middle of the torture room, stood Serana. Isran had his crossbow set to fire at the click of a trigger, “This vampire showed up while you both were away. I'm guessing it's the one you found in Dimhollow Crypt. ‘Says it's got something really important to say to you. So let's hear it,” he huffs as his finger lingered over the trigger.

Serana shared a glance with both of the mages. She sighed, letting a faint grin be seen on her pale features, “You probably weren't expecting to see me again.”

Loki narrowed his eyes, “What are you doing here, Serana?”

“I'd rather not be here either,” she rubbed her arm as she looked around warily, “But I needed to talk to you. It's important, so please just listen before your friend here loses his patience. It's... well..” Serana let out a soft breath, “It's about me, and the Elder Scroll that was buried with me.”

“What about you?” Ian asked.

“The reason I was down there... and why I had the Elder Scroll, It all comes back to my father. I'm guessing you figured this part out already, but my father's not exactly a decent person, even by vampire standards. He wasn't always like that, though. There was... a turn. He stumbled onto this obscure prophecy and just kind of lost himself in it.”

“What do you mean by he ‘lost himself’ in it?” Ian knitted his eyebrows. Loki listened thoroughly. His own thoughts were pushed to the side to understand what she is talking about.

She shrugged, while rubbing her arm, “He just became absorbed... obsessed even. It was kind of sick, actually. The prophecy said that vampires would no longer need to fear the sun. For someone who fancied himself as vampire royalty, that's pretty seductive.

Anyway, my mother and I didn't feel like inviting a war with all of Tamriel, so we tried to stop him. That's why I was sealed away with the Scroll.”

Loki spoke up, “You took a big risk coming here, if Isran hasn’t made that clear enough..”

“I did, but something about you guys makes me think I can trust you. I hope I'm not wrong,” she faintly smiled.

“No, you’re right!” He responded, “We just need to convince the others that you’re on our side.”

“Well, let's move on then. I'm nothing if not persuasive.”

Isran grunted to catch her attention. He set the crossbow down on the blood smeared table, “You hear me? Don't feel like a guest, because you're not. You're a resource. An asset. In the meantime, don't make me regert my sudden outburst of tolerance and generosity for your kind, because if you do, your friends here will pay for it,” he warned.

She rolled her eyes at the vampire hunter, “Thank you for your kindness. I'll remember it the next time I'm feeling hungry..” Serana then turned back to the two elves, “So in case you didn't notice the giant thing on my back, I have the Elder Scroll with me. Whatever it says, it will have something that can help us stop my father, but of course, neither of us can read it.”

“Who can, then?” Ian asked.

“Well, the Moth Priests are the only ones I've heard of who can do it. They spend years preparing before they start reading, though. Not that it helps us anyway, because they're half a continent away in Cyrodiil.”

Isran stepped in, “Some Imperial scholar arrived in Skyrim a few days ago. I was staking out the road when I saw him pass by on one of those carriages. Maybe that's your Moth Priest.”

“Do you know where he's staying now?”

“No, and I'm not going to waste men looking. We're fighting a war against your kind, and I intend to win it. You want to find him, try talking to anyone who'd meet a traveler. Innkeepers and carriage drivers in the big cities maybe, but you're on your own.”

The two elves and vampire left the torture room, much to Ian’s relief. “Any idea how we’re going to find a Moth Priest? Skyrim's a pretty big place.”

Loki hummed as he glanced up at the cobweb ridden chandeliers. The College’s Arcanaeum has much cleaner light fixtures, with not a spec of cobweb lingering-

He gasped, “What about the College of Winterhold? That place has everything regarding magic, which I’m sure wouldn’t limit itself to Elder Scrolls.”

Serana’s eyes glinted at his suggestion, “That seems like a good option. Back before I... you know, the College of Winterhold was the first place I'd think to go for any kind of magic or historical thing too. The wizards know about all kinds of things that other people shouldn't know about.”

“Then that’s where we will look first?”

“Exactly.”

Loki nodded, “I’ll meet you and Ian by Fort Dawnguard’s entrance. I’m going to look for a bucket around here.”

“A bucket- oh..” Ian looked to the side in embarrassment.

Loki chuckled sheepishly, “I won’t take long, Bunny.”

Ian nodded, leading the way out of fort Dawnguard. Upon walking outside and reaching the courtyard where recruits practiced their vampire killing abilities, the blue elf plopped himself down on a hay bale with a huff.

Serana looked up at the sun still rising into the peaks of the sky, “So... you and Loki have gotten friendlier since I’ve last seen you two.”

Ian smiled bashfully, “Yeah.. we started dating since we traveled through Whiterun for the second time. It’s not all that serious, but I really like him,” he hummed contently.

The vampire simply smiled in response and sat down next to him, “It’s good to find love in a place such as Skyrim. It’s cold and unforgiving,” she turned to him, “Where do you hail from? It’s obvious you aren’t very used to cold weather such as this.”

“Oh, uh..”

“Hey guys!” Loki called as he caught up to them. A red and white dog followed from behind him happily.

“Who’s your new friend?” Ian asked as the dog sat down contently. His tail thumped against the snowy ground.

“His name’s Tiberius,” the dog perked up the second his name was said. “His trainer was having a hard time training him, so I offered to bring him along!”

“Huh..” the blue elf hummed.

“Anyways,” Loki gave Tiberius a pat on the head, “I think that we should hire a carriage to Windhelm, then trek to Winterhold the next morning. Does that sound ok?”

“Sounds good.”

“No complaints here.”

Loki nodded, “The sooner we get to Windhelm, the quicker we can get to Winterhold without any problems!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is an official character reference for Ian Lightfoot in Dear Fellow Traveler: https://www.deviantart.com/asleepyb0i/art/OTS-Ian-Lightfoot-reference-870710269

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment on whether you liked it or disliked it. It would also be cool if you offer criticism since I’m striving to improve myself.
> 
> Disclaimer: All non-original characters belong to Disney-Pixar and Bethesda Game Studios.
> 
> Ian Lightfoot DFT character reference: https://www.deviantart.com/asleepyb0i/art/OTS-Ian-Lightfoot-reference-870710269  
> Loki DFT character reference:


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